From the Light and Into Darkness
by PhoenixScribe
Summary: Angelina has come to Paris to dance against both of her parents' wishes. She has many hidden talents and is afraid to use them. Will a certain opera ghost be able to help her discover them and possible fall in love and redeem himself in the process?
1. Welcome to Paris

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. **

**Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable and I know my story and my character will pale in comparison. **

**However, I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy! Be gentle! This is my first story on here.**

**_From the Light…Into Darkness_**

**Chapter 1 – Welcome to Paris**

The crest of the family name was seen on the side of the carriage. If the crest was any indication, the two people inside would secure the image.

Angelina watched her father sleep in the seat across from her. She smiled. She leaned back and rested during the last leg of her journey.

_I'm going to Paris. I'm going to be a dancer._

She smiled wider, just thinking about it. The ribbon from her ballet slippers hung from her bag by her side. Angelina was assured a place in the newest ballet company formed in Paris. They would be heading up a newly built opera house – Opera Garnier. Several new operas were being considered by the managers and patron. She would be arriving just in time to hear the opening night's opera revealed.

Her mother and father had tried to talk her out of going to Paris to dance. Angelina would hear nothing of it. _I'm 17; I'm old enough to make my own decisions._ She remembered exactly what she told both of her parents. _I am not you. I want to live my own life and to make my own decisions. I want to dance and I want to dance in Paris._

Living her life in a small town away from everything civilized, she longed to be in the center of it all. Demanding her place in society, she nearly ran away until her father finally convinced her mother to let her go.

_I'll accompany her to Paris._

_This is a bad idea._

_She will go anyway, my love. If we do not let her go, she will run away from us. I would rather have her in our lives then away from it._

_She isn't safe in Paris._

_I will make sure she is safe._

Angelina had heard her father's last words to her mother. They would ring true. Her father had accompanied her to Paris. She remembered the tears in her mother's eyes and her parting words…

_You are to stay around people at all times. You are to watch everything around you._

_Mother…_

_Angelina, this is for the best. Please, heed my warnings. I am begging you._

Sometimes she wondered if her mother was going crazy but her father assured her that it was in her best interest.

The image from the windows of the carriage changed from the wooded path to the streets of Paris.

Angelina's smile could have melted the snow that covered the ground.

"Paris…"

He looked at his daughter and sighed. She'd grown up so fast. _So innocent and…just like her mother._

"Father?"

He looked at Angelina and faked a smile. Putting a hand to her face, he took her into his arms and embraced her.

"I'm not dying, Father. I'm just joining the ballet."

He pulled back from her and saw the delight in his daughter's eyes.

"That's not the point, Angelina. You are still going to be away from my side."

"You can come visit any time you want - you and mother."

He slowly nodded his head. It would take a great deal to get his wife to come to Paris. Many painful memories were held here for her. His daughter knew very little of them and they were going to tell her when the time was right. Somehow, he now regretted waiting.

"Father, I will not disappoint you. I know the Chagny name rides on what I do here."

"I'm not worried about my name, Angelina. I'm worried about you. But I know you will do nothing but make us proud."

Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny, now older and wiser, pulled out a black jewelry box from his pocket. He slowly opened it and pulled out a beautiful necklace with a cross on it. Angelina's eyes widened at the sight of it.

"Father!"

He slowly undid the clasp and put it around his daughter's neck. He looked at her and sighed.

"From your mother and I. We wish you all the luck in the world and know that you will make Madame Giry proud as your mother did. My daughter, Angelina Christine de Chagny will bring the house down."

Angelina smiled and hugged her father. She kissed his cheek and quickly ran up the stairs and into the opera house.

_Just like her mother, in more ways then one._ He looked up to the sky, as if praying and pleading at the same time. _Please keep her safe._


	2. To Dance or Not To Dance

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable and I know my story and my character will pale in comparison. However, I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy! Be gentle! This is my first story on here.**

**A/N: I know it is a little soon but I needed to update. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I promise it gets better as it goes on. Enjoy Chapter Two and please read and review. I also would like to thank the Aria Database for the lyrics to "Carmen".**

**Chapter 2 – To Dance or Not To Dance**

_Dear Mother –_

_I have been in Paris for a week now. I know you have been counting the days. I am writing this letter to you to assure you that I am perfectly fine and that I'm doing well. Madam Giry has made me one of the leads in the new opera. She's extremely impressed with my abilities. I assured her that it was due to your training. She had no doubts about that._

_I have met another young woman who had just moved from Spain. Her name is Gabriella and she is so beautiful. You would love her, mother. She is pleasant and speaks very good English. She is starring along side me in the ballet parts of the opera, all except for the solo that I have._

_Whatever you were afraid of has not happened. Everything within the opera house has been going according to schedule with no problems. However, the new diva Brigitte Raineau has seen to tell me on more then one occasion that she is better then you. I have contained all comments and have said nothing to her. She is the star of the show and has received all of the attention. Madam Giry has seen to it that she rolls her eyes every time she is in her presence. I do not think Madam Giry likes her very much. I know Madam Raineau does not like her. She has also said that on more then one occasion._

_Mother, I wish you would come to Paris and see me. I am worried about you and your fears for me. I pray that you and father are well. I have visited the chapel every chance I have gotten and prayed for the both of you. Alexander has written me and told me that he will return home soon. I know you are both anxious for his return._

_I must go, our rehearsal starts for the managers of the opera house in a few moments. I love you, mother. Please, do not fear for me. I am fine and am doing well. I am making the Chagny name ring throughout all of Paris as you once did with the name of Daae. I hope you receive this in good tiding. _

_With all my love, as always…_

_Angelina

* * *

_

She stood and watched Angelina from the wing of the stage. _Just like her mother._ Her long black curly hair bounced as she made her pirouettes around the stage and completed every turn with precision and grace. Her blue eyes belonged to her father and her smile…both parents.

_She's exactly like Christine was when we were children._

Meg Giry stepped out from the wing and began to circle the stage, focusing on the dancers performing. They were improving with every day and not disappointing as many dancers before them had. The managers had seen to it that they procured every well trained ballet dancer from around the world to perform in their operas. They had not failed. Dancers from Spain, Russia, Egypt, London, and the States had come to Paris to perform. She was never so impressed.

But one had stuck out as she watched them perform one-by-one: Angelina. Meg knew from her mother that in order to produce a well performed ballet, you must have a well trained dancer. Angelina was just that dancer. She would lead the dancers without having her attitude change and become a "diva".

_Brigitte…_

She claimed every chance she could to tell Angelina that she paled in comparison to her. And every time that Brigitte mentioned Christine, she could see Angelina's anger flash in her eyes but quickly let it diminish. If she could, she, herself, would tell Brigitte all about how a true diva was to act. Christine was a star in her own right. To destroy her memory was to destroy everything that Christine was.

She stood at the front of the stage and watched Angelina and a new dancer from Spain, Gabriella, complete their dance with twelve others. All stood after finishing and the music had stopped. Meg smiled.

"Excellent. There is still much to be done for this to be perfect, but you are well on your way." Meg could see the happiness pass over all of their faces. The praise was well taken.

Before any more praise could be given, Meg stopped and watched a woman push her way to the front.

"Out of my way! Dancers are second to singers! Move!"

Meg sighed and watched as a well-dressed young woman stood in front of her. Meg didn't mind being overturned by managers, but to be overturned by a woman who had no knowledge of the stage irritated her.

"Madam Giry, if you don't mind, I believe your rehearsal is over."

Meg sighed and knew better then to argue. Her mother taught her better then that. How she missed her mother behind the scenes of every opera. She had more tolerance of divas then her.

"Madam Raineau, I believe you are early."

"And you are to accommodate me, according to our dear managers." She stepped up to Meg. "You are not being very accommodating."

Meg smiled and gestured her dancers to leave. She noticed Angelina stay there and watch the scene.

"Madam Giry, do you wish me to stay?" Her voice faltered as Brigitte turned to her with a look of death.

Meg slowly shook her head. "No, my dear. Please, go get changed. The rest of the day is yours."

Angelina nodded her head as Meg turned back to Brigitte. Brigitte's hazel eyes pierced Meg's. Her blonde hair bounced as did her bosom. Meg could tell her anger was growing and decided to defuse it before it escalated.

"The stage is yours, Madam Raineau. See to it that you use it properly."

Meg began to walk away before she could hear a snicker come from Brigitte's lips.

"Your darling little ballet dancer will star in this opera, I hear. Unlike Carlotta years prior, I will not back down from a little twit. _I_ am the diva of this opera. A ballet dancer will not overturn me. See to it, Madam Giry. See that she does not overstep her bounds as her mother did. I will not tolerate it."

Meg would not give her the satisfaction of turning around. She continued to walk away, leaving Brigitte to her spotlight.

* * *

Angelina's quarters were small but she was quite content with them. There was a small cot against the wall across from a large mirror built into the wall. Sometimes she would think there was someone behind the mirror, watching her.

_I have completely lost my mind._

She stood in front of the mirror, still in her costume from the rehearsal. A flowing light pink gown, to just above her ankles, allowed her the freedom she needed to perform her moves freely. The bodice was just low enough to show the designs upon her chest that she was required to wear.

The satin ballet shoes complimented the moves she performed in front of the mirror. Music came to her through the slight breeze that seemed to enter the room. The intensity of her moves increased as the music increased.

"Sing…"

Her eyes closed as the music continued to grow. Angelina didn't feel of herself, as if some spirit willed her on. Her steps seemed to differ from the ones she performed on stage. Breathing became harder and harder as the music continued to grow louder in her head.

"Sing!"

Angelina could resist no more. Her soul and heart filled with the music that surrounded her. Her moves, fluid. Her voice came to her…

"Of him that I love once! She is dangerous, she is beautiful. But I do not want to be afraid. No, no, I do not want to be afraid. I will speak up before her…ah! Lord you will protect me. Protect me! O Lord! Give me courage!"

The aria from Carmen had filled her, the lyrics unknown to her but she some how knew them. Her voice resonated and echoed. Anyone who walked into her room would have been sent to their knees with the power that came from her.

The door to Angelina's room opened and she collapsed to the ground as the music died. Meg stood there and looked at Angelina, collapsed on the floor. Her eyes slowly met the eyes of the child on the floor. Tears began to show in Angelina's eyes.

"Anna, I did not know you could sing."


	3. The Tale of Hidden Talents

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable and I know my story and my character will pale in comparison. However, I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy! Be gentle! This is my first story on here.**

**A/N: I would like to thank the Aria Database for the lyrics to "Carmen". I know that the beginning is sort of slow but I promise it will pick up. You have to bear with me. I'm used to writing things in screenplay format. This is my first True story that I've written in novel form. **

**Chapter 3 – The Tale of Hidden Talents**

"I…I…"

The tears fell as the words could not escape her mouth. Meg quickly rushed to Angelina's side and watched as she put her hands over her face.

"This isn't something to cry about, Anna. Your voice is beautiful."

Angelina quickly shook her head, sobs racking her body. Her breathing was still labored and heavy. The bodice seemed to restrict her and choke her. None of that seemed to matter at the moment.

"If my mother ever found out that I just…"

Meg now knew what she feared. Christine knew that singing had changed her life forever so many years ago. Fear shrouded Christine's life and the life of her daughter. She feared that her daughter would be condemned to the same fate as her. Christine feared the night that changed her life forever to happen to Angelina. Meg didn't blame her. She would fear the same thing for her daughter. But Meg could see Angelina's heart breaking before her. Knowing what Meg knew, Christine would do anything to see her daughter happy.

Meg slowly brought Angelina's face from her hands. The tears continued to show upon her pale cheeks.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, Anna. Your mother would be proud of you."

"She does not know I can sing."

That one statement hit Meg in her heart. _How can Christine not know she can sing? She must have known._

"Anna, how can she not know? She must have heard you sing."

"I've never sung in her presence. I know how it would upset her." Angelina quickly dried her cheeks and took a deep breath. Her breathing slowed and she quickly became herself again. "I do not know why, Madam Giry, but it upsets her every time she sings herself. I know it would devastate her to hear me sing. She would have never allowed me to come to Paris if she knew."

The reasons were unknown to Angelina, Meg knew. Christine and Raoul had never explained the incident and the reason as to why they had left Paris. Once Christine had found out she was pregnant, Raoul and Christine had married quickly and had left Paris for good. She had kept in constant contact with Meg and had let her know of everything that was going on. For years the letters would come to Meg until one day, just before Angelina's fifteenth birthday, they stopped.

It was Christine's last letter to Meg that had her worried for her friend:

_Dearest Meg,_

_I am writing to you in the hopes that you could help. Angelina has started realizing her talents. She had become a well-trained ballet dancer. She is starting to want to go to Paris. You must find me a way to convince her otherwise. I cannot tell her of what happened there. I fear for her, Meg. I do not know what will happen if she goes to Paris. I cannot let her go. I cannot. Please, Meg, find a way._

_Christine_

She had received no others. Angelina continued to write and her hope of going to Paris was growing. Meg knew that Christine was fighting a lost battle. Angelina would not take no for an answer. She would go to Paris whether or not Christine permitted it.

And here she was, with talents Meg did not know she possessed. A fear burned within her stomach. The secret that she held from everyone filled her head. _Dear God, have I condemned myself to this? Have I condemned Angelina?_

"Please, Madam Giry, do not tell my mother. She will have me return from Paris. I do not want to go home. I want to stay here and dance. Please…"

Angelina's eyes pleaded and filled with tears once again. Her talents could not be wasted – Meg knew this. Angelina could not hide her angelic voice. _He_ would not permit it.

"Anna, let me tell the managers of your voice. Let me…"

"No!" Her voice cracked with fear and her hands clung to Meg's. She shook her head. "You can tell no one of this."

"Anna, you cannot let this talent go to waste. Your mother would not want that."

"If my mother ever found out I was singing, I would be sent from here. I know how she is, Madam. She would be furious with me."

"You cannot hide it forever." Meg knew debating the issue would be fruitless. She could see the determination in Angelina's eyes. She would not be changing her mind. "You cannot be a dancer forever."

"My voice is far from perfect, Madam. It is nowhere near the caliber of my mothers."

"It doesn't have to be. It is _your_ voice, Anna. You make it your own. If you had a teacher…"

Meg watched as Angelina's eyes lit up at the prospect of a teacher. _Damn you, Meg. You are getting into more trouble then what its worth._ The thoughts did not change once she saw Angelina smile.

"A teacher! Is there one in the opera house? Could they help me?"

Not wanting to diminish Angelina's hopes, Meg replied. "What I meant to say was that a teacher would be able to help you, Anna. I'm sure you can find one in Paris."

With that comment, Meg stood. She looked down upon Angelina as a mother and a friend. Without Christine's presence, Meg was all the young woman had. She did not want to destroy the dreams of this young woman, but she knew of Christine's past and did not want Angelina to suffer the same fate.

"Do not fear your talents. If you wish, at any time, I will tell the managers and they will place you appropriately. Until that time, I wish you to dance until your heart can take no more and your legs collapse. I know that this is how you want to be. That is your single talent, for now. Work on it. Mold it. Make it yours. I am here for you, Anna. Please, do not hesitate to talk to me."

Angelina could only nod her head and watched as her mother's friend left the room. The floor seemed to burn her and she quickly stood. Her hand covered her lips in instinct and fear.

_Could I actually sing in an opera? Could I be a star like my mother? Why do I fear something that I know could bring me all of the happiness in the world?_

She looked at the mirror and looked at the reflection in it.

_A teacher. That is what I need. I need a teacher to help me._

She slowly approached the mirror, as if longing for something behind it. Slowly putting her hand to it, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I long to be free. Free of the fears and pain that I have felt since I was a child. I need an angel to save me. Please."


	4. The Tale of the Opera Ghost

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable. I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy!**

**A/N: This is the true beginning of the story. I know it has been a little slow but I promise, after this chapter, it will pick up. Don't be afraid to review and comment. I love to hear it all. Once again, I would like to thank the Aria Database for the Carmen lyrics.**

**Chapter 4 – The Tale of the Opera Ghost**

The next few days of rehearsals went on without any problems. Meg had not said a word to Angelina about what she heard just days prior. It seemed to have just been erased from memory.

However, the memory lingered in Angelina's mind. She thought about it, throughout the day and dreamt about it at night. The day's events did not escape her either. _That voice. Where did it come from? How did he know that I could sing?_ She had heard the voice before: in her dreams.

She thought it all had been a figment of her imagination. Her father used to laugh it off when she was a child. He had assured her that it was only her imagination – an imaginary friend. Nothing more, nothing less. _It could be my imagination now. Maybe I just dreamt the voice. There was no one there but me._

But the voice had made her heart race and her breathing increase. She had never felt such power behind just one word. She felt she had no choice but to sing. And sing she did. From an opera from which she only knew the music and not the words. But the words had somehow found their way from her soul through her mouth. It wasn't until she finished the verse did she feel free. She was free from the pain of holding back during her childhood. Her soul sang as she did. She had never felt like that before.

There was no time to think of what was or what could be. Angelina needed to focus on her dancing. The break, in which to wait for Brigitte, let her mind wander and to listen to the dancers around her.

"He's real you know."

"He is not. There is no such thing as a Phantom of the Opera."

"An Opera Ghost. He haunts these very walls."

"He only existed in the minds of the insane. And besides, even if he did exist, he's long gone now. The Opera Populaire burned. There is nothing left of it - including an Opera Ghost."

Angelina listened but made sure no one in the small group knew she was. She had heard of the tale of the "opera ghost". It was a tale told to her as a child, to scare her from even thinking about Paris. Alexander did all he could to make sure she was frightened every night before she would go to bed. It did the trick. The deformed man that roamed the halls of every opera house in Paris scared her until she cried herself to sleep.

"The Opera Ghost exists! I've seen him!"

"You have not."

"He wears a black cloak and a white mask covers half of his face."

"Everyone knows that. That doesn't prove anything."

"Enough, ladies."

Angelina looked up and saw Madam Giry standing there, her look serious. Each of the girls stood, one-by-one.

"There is no more talk of an "opera ghost". I want to hear no more talk of it."

"But, Madam Giry…"

"There is no more talk. Am I understood?"

They all answered "yes" in unison. Meg noticed Angelina listening and slowly approached. Angelina's eyes averted Meg's, trying not to show she was listening in.

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it, Madam."

"You cannot let these girls scare you. Tales of the "opera ghost" have been around for years. He does not exist."

"I understand, Madam."

"Now our rehearsal…"

"Will wait."

Both Meg and Angelina turned to see Brigitte standing there, in her full costume. Her entourage was not far behind. The path was cleared as she made her way to the front of the stage.

"I will not have some little twit take up my rehearsal time."

Before Angelina could step forward, Meg grabbed a hold of her arm and held her in place.

"Let her go, Anna. She is not worth it."

"Maestro, my music." Each one of the dancers stepped off to the side as Brigitte made herself at home in center stage.

An aria from Carmen, 'Habanera', began. The orchestra grew in intensity as Brigitte began her aria…

"When will I love you? Good lord, I don't know. Maybe never, maybe tomorrow. But not today, that's certain."

Even though no one wanted to, all eyes were focused on Brigitte. Her voice carried across the barren opera house and echoed through every wall.

But her voice did not stop Angelina hear something pop in the rafters above. Angelina looked up and saw something falling from the ceiling. And although she knew she didn't like Brigitte, Angelina pushed Brigitte out of the way and was hit in the head by a large object.

"Angelina!"

Meg quickly rushed to Angelina side as Brigitte's entire entourage flew to Brigitte's side. Looking above her, Meg could see a figure running through the rafters and away from the scene. She looked down at Angelina. Her head was bleeding and her eyes closed. Several other dancers quickly came to aid Meg as Meg slowly stood up. Brigitte brushed herself off and looked at Meg. Several of the dancers picked up Angelina as Brigitte walked over to Meg.

"She ripped my dress."

Meg didn't mean for her mouth to drop open, but it did. She stood there in utter disbelief.

"Your dress ripped?"

"Right down the back. I expect the seamstress will have quite a time repairing it. I will make sure it's docked out of Angelina's pay."

"She just saved your life!"

"She should learn to leave be. I would not have been harmed. Now there is more damage then there should be. Tell your precious little one to keep her nose where it belongs."

And with that, she walked off, her entourage following. Before she could manage to put two thoughts together, a young man walked up to her.

"Madam, she has not woken up. We have called for the doctor."

"Has the bleeding stopped?"

"No. I have a few dancers with her."

"Keep them there until I can get to her room."

The young man bows and then leaves her. As if by magic, an envelop falls from above. She gasps at the sight of the crest on the back of it.

_The red skull._

She slowly bends down and picks it up. She eyes it and looks above to see if there is anyone there. No one. Breaking the seal, Meg's heart begins to race. She pulls out a small piece of paper and recognizes the handwriting right away.

_Madam Giry –_

_To think, that is what I used to call your mother. You are to send the doctor away. Leave no one in Angelina's room. I will tend to her. No fears, Madam, she is in capable hands. I will not be there until sundown, until then you may tend to her – no one else. _

_O.G._

Meg slowly returned the letter to its home. Chills ran down her spine to accompany her labored breathing. _It cannot be. He cannot be here. He swore to me._ With no time to spare, Meg hurried to Angelina's room. _Maybe she will wake before he comes._


	5. Silent Promise

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable. I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy!**

**A/N: Thank you to all who are posting comments! It is much appreciated. I hope that you will enjoy this chapter. I would love to hear your comments and concerns about this chapter. Enjoy it and I will update soon!**

**Chapter 5 – A Silent Promise**

The time from which the incident occurred and sundown seemed to quicken with each minute. Meg had little time to tend to Angelina's wound. The deep gash upon her head would not stop bleeding. The dancers pleaded with her not to send the doctor away. But as commanded, she did. The doctor was turned away at the door.

A fever was coming upon Angelina with due speed. Meg could see Angelina's dreams being haunted by dark images. Her tossing and turning was not helping the flow of blood coming from the gash. She tried everything, including a cool washcloth. Nothing had worked.

The moonlight began to shine in through the small window, illuminating the bed. Meg gently covered Angelina with the blanket. Angelina tried to remove it but Meg held it in place. Another hand joined hers, holding the blanket against Angelina. One touch stopped Angelina from tossing and turning.

Meg did not need to turn to see who it was. She saw the black leather gloved hand near hers. Never really seeing the Opera Ghost, she didn't know what he looked like. She had heard descriptions from Christine, but nothing prepared her for this. Receiving letters and demands over the past few months, Meg had still not grown accustomed to the red skull or the demands. But she did as she was told – by both him and her mother. She had no choice.

"Leave us."

Meg did not want to leave Angelina in his hands. It wasn't a trust factor. It was a fear factor. She feared what he would do to her. He knew that she was Christine's daughter – her only daughter. Harm would not come to her but what else could? _He loved Christine. He wouldn't hurt Angelina. Mother trusted him, why can't I?_

"I assure you, Madam Giry, she will be well taken care of."

Meg slowly rose from the chair and turned. The cloak was already on the back of a chair and stripped without a sound made. Dressed elegantly, Meg slowly looked at him. _20,000 franks seem to be doing well for him._ She stopped, looking into the eyes of the Phantom. His white mask illuminated by the moonlight did not stop the look in his eyes. _Is that lust or hatred?_

"If you hurt her…"

"I would never harm her, Madam. I promise you."

"Then why is she lying here? Tell me why…"

"The object was meant for Brigitte. Angelina was being a good Samaritan and saved the life of dear Brigitte - of which she was not grateful."

He looked down upon Angelina, as if in a trance. _He sees it, like I see it. He sees Christine lying on the bed._

"Please, leave us."

Meg hesitated. But something flashed in his eyes. In that instant, Meg trusted him with Angelina's life. _Just as mother trusted mine in his hands. He never harmed me. He wouldn't harm her._

Opening the door, she looked back one more time. She saw him standing there, just staring at the young woman lying on the bed. She could not imagine the thoughts filling his head.

"I will return in the morning."

With no other words said, Meg slowly and quietly closed the door.

* * *

The silence was deafening. It surrounded him as it never had before. _My life was filled with music and song. What happened? Why was it torn from me?_

He had blamed everyone: Christine, Raoul, Madam Giry, and God himself. The only person he didn't blame was himself. _I am not responsible for what has happened to me. Seventeen years I have been alone. Seventeen years my soul has cried. Seventeen years without music and song._

An angel was sent to him by the one person he had never imagined: Christine. Angelina was a pure mixture of her mother and father. He could Raoul in her and shivered at the thought of him and Christine together. _She is not my angel any more. She gave up on me a long time ago. She feared me and still does. I should be rid of her memory but I cannot._

It was when Angelina first came upon the opera house that he heard her sing. It seemed to echo in his ears and pierce his soul. Only Christine could do that to him. No other had ever given him more peace then she. Until Angelina.

_Dear Angelina._ Christine had picked an appropriate name for the child. She truly was an angel. Her voice and her dancing had proven to him that she was Christine's daughter. Just the sight of her made him weak. He wished to feel at peace. He wished to be free of the pain he had felt for so many years. Had God given him another chance at peace?

He removed the glove from his hand and gently placed it on Angelina's forehead. The bleeding had finally stopped after he had spent hours tending it to. He had gently placed a bandage over the large gash. _I never meant for you to get hurt. It was meant for Brigitte. She is a thorn in my side, Angelina. She means to cause problems._

The fever had also slowly begun to break. She had tossed and turned most of the night he was with her. He finally had gotten off of the chair and sat beside her on the bed. After finding out his touch would not calm her, he began to sing. His voice was low and barely auditable, but he knew she could hear him. He watched her body become calm and peaceful as if he dreams had finally come to her.

He had watched her sleep, basked in only the moonlight. Her skin was illuminated, her beauty not hidden. A long time ago, he had dreamed of a night like this. Long ago he had a night like this in which he had watched Christine sleep. She had come with him to his lair, as almost in a trance. She had wanted to be with him. She had wanted to stay. She had…

He lowered his head, relieving the painful memory. He shook his head, ridding himself of it. _I will not be so naïve this time. I will not allow my heart to…_ His heart stopped as he looked upon Angelina once again. _I cannot…_ The sigh from Angelina's mouth had him look away from her.

A teacher, which is what she said she had wanted and needed. An angel she sought. Could he be that angel, a teacher once again? Could he allow himself to hear music again? Could his heart survive? Would she look upon him as Christine once had – a monster?

He looked at her once again. _An angel. My angel._ Rising from the bed and putting on his cloak, he closed his eyes as he heard the music she had sung just days before. Her voice filled his head and consumed him – mind, body, and soul. He looked at the mirror on the opposite side of the room and looked at himself – the masked face and the angel sleeping behind him.

Stepping up to the mirror, he slid it open and stepped inside of the dark corridor. He looked once again at Angelina and nodded his head.

"I will teach you, my child. I will teach you everything I could not teach your mother. You will become a star in Paris. You will love and be loved. I will make you an angel of music."

And he gently closed the door, leaving Angelina basking in the moonlight upon the bed. The music continued to fill the air as Angelina continued her dreams in peace.


	6. What Tomorrow May Bring

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable. I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy!**

**A/N: Thank you to all who are posting comments! It is much appreciated. I hope that you will enjoy this chapter. I would love to hear your comments and concerns about this chapter. Enjoy it and I will update soon!**

**Chapter 6 – What Tomorrow May Bring**

The room was silent as Gabriella opened the door. She found no one on the bed.

"Anna?"

A figured by the window turned and smiled at her.

"Good morning, Gabriella."

Gabriella smiled widely and rushed over to her friend. Noticing the bandage, she put her hand lightly to Angelina's head.

"Does it hurt?"

"A mild throbbing. Nothing to worry about."

"You had the entire company worried about you. When Madam Giry sent away the doctor…"

Gabriella noticed the confused look on Angelina's face.

"You didn't know?"

"She sent the doctor away?"

"As soon as he arrived. She claimed he was not needed. We all told her she was wrong but she still sent him away."

Turning back to the window, Angelina's breathing became heavy. Gabriella continued the news.

"Madam Giry sat by your side until sundown. We had all asked about your condition and we were told that you had a fever and were having nightmares."

"I was."

"But you're fine now! That's all that matters."

"I…"

Gabriella noticed the distress on her friend's face. Angelina's hands quickly grabbed hers and her eyes pierced hers.

"There was someone with me last night."

"That's not possible. Madam Giry wasn't here."

"I heard him singing."

"Singing?" Gabriella laughed. "And a man none the less. You know Madam Giry would never allow a man in your room. It must have been the fever and delusions in your dreams. There was no one in here with you last night."

"You're wrong, Gabriella. I know he was here. He sang to me just before all there was…was music."

"You're speaking like a mad woman, Anna. There was no one here with you."

Angelina hung her head. _I know I'm not delusional. I didn't dream him. I felt him. I felt his touch and it calmed me, made me feel at peace._

"I'm not crazy."

"It was your dreams, Anna. The fever must have done something to you. All you heard was this man in your dream."

"But, Gabriella…"

"Anna, I would not lie to you. You know this. I am your best friend. No one was here with you."

Angelina looked at Gabriella and finally nodded her head. "You are right. There was no one here."

"You are awake."

Both girls looked toward the door and saw Meg standing there. Angelina smiled.

"I am, Madam. Thank you for taking care of me last night."

"The bleeding has stopped?"

"Yes. And the bandage is holding up."

"Gabriella, can you leave us for a few moments?"

"Of course, Madam." And with that, Gabriella gave Angelina one last smile before leaving the room.

Closing the door behind Gabriella, Meg finally turned to Angelina. "Are you sure you are alright?"

"My head is throbbing but I am fine otherwise."

Meg slowly nodded her head. "I am glad you are well. Brigitte is still not happy about what happened. But you saved her life yesterday. I am proud of you. I sent word to your parents about the incident. I should hear back from them today."

Meg noticed the worried look on Angelina's face. _Could she know? Could she know he was in here?_

"Madam, Gabriella told me that I had a terrible fever last night and you sent away the doctor."

"I did."

"I heard a man's voice last night…"

_She knows._

"He sang to me. He made me feel…at peace. As if nothing could touch me. The pain disappeared as did my nightmares."

She stepped toward Meg and looked at her, pleading.

"Please tell me I did not dream him."

"Anna…"

"I have only heard a voice like his, once. It was when I was a child. I would have nightmares, constantly. Then I would hear this voice, surrounding me. All of my nightmares would disappear and serenity would fill my mind."

Meg quickly sat Angelina down on the bed. The thoughts filling Meg's mind were many. _If Christine ever found out…_

"It was the same voice, Madam. Please, tell me it was real. Tell me he was in my room last night."

Meg's mind could not stop reeling. She had hoped against hope that he would not speak or sing to her. His presence was merely enough to make a difference. He had sung to her. Nightmare turned to reality. Everything was crumbling before her. Nothing would stop either of them now. He had entered her mind, long before Paris.

She had to set things right. "It was only a dream." _Lies. Nothing but lies to a child._ But to save her life, she would lie a million times over. To save her from this…phantom, she would sacrifice everything.

"A dream?"

"Nothing more then a dream, Anna. Your fever only broke this morning. It must have haunted your dreams."

"But it was not haunting. It was…peaceful."

Angelina's hands trembled and Meg stilled them. Tears began to form in Angelina's eyes.

"Do not cry, Anna. If it was a peaceful dream, then it will come again. But it was nothing more then that. It was a dream."

Standing, Meg looked down upon Angelina. She raised her chin to look up at her. "I will let you rest for today. You need to have your strength if you are to lead this company. Carmen must go on and we need its star dancer. Rest, Anna. Dream all day if you must. But you must regain your strength."

"Yes, Madam."

Meg left her, contemplating if she had done the right thing. _I have just lied to my best friend's daughter. But she would think it was right. I am saving Angelina from a life that is not meant to be. Damn him for doing this. Damn him!_

* * *

Hour after hour. All she did was think as the seconds, minutes, hours, passed by. His voice consumed her mind.

_I heard it. I know I did. It wasn't a dream. They're both wrong. I know it wasn't a dream._

A chill ran down her spine, causing her to turn toward the mirror. A cast of light illuminated the floor in front of her. Angelina looked around the room, trying to find the source of it but found it to be a crack in the mirror.

_Odd…_

Angelina slowly approached the mirror and saw more light behind it. Sliding the mirror aside, shocking her, a beautiful sight laid before her. Candle light illuminated the entire corridor. Lit candles were being held by beautiful candle operas. The corridor seemed endless as did the glow.

As if in a trance, Angelina stepped into the corridor, led by instinct alone. She continued to look around her as she continued down the corridor.

A large staircase loomed in front of her as she approached the end of the corridor. The glow from candle light did not end. It continued down the winding staircase.

Just as Angelina was about to step down, her head began to spin. She put her hand to her forehead and redrew her hand with blood on it.

"Blood…?"

The lightheadedness did not stop. Finding nowhere to brace herself, Angelina fell into the darkness of her mind.


	7. Unknown Senses

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable. I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy!**

**A/N: Thank you to all who are posting comments! It is much appreciated. I hope that you will enjoy this chapter. I would love to hear your comments and concerns about this chapter. Enjoy it and I will update soon!**

**Chapter 7 – Unknown Senses**

Music surrounded her, protecting her from the world. She felt it. It played in her mind; capturing every sense and making them come alive. It was hot. It was cold. It was loud. It was silent. How could music do this to her? How could it disturb the very fiber of her being?

Her eyes fluttered open, slowly. Everything around her was blurry, at first. As her vision cleared, she saw she was in a bed, painted in gold and surrounded by angels on the posts of the bed. The satin sheets, against her skin, made it feel as if there was nothing covering her.

Slowly sitting up, she continued to look at the surroundings. Although rock surrounded her, it didn't feel as though she was in a cave but a well laid out bedroom. There was no expense spared. Everything was exquisite and grand. From the large four poster bed to the large dresser that accompanied it.

As she placed her feet on the ground, she could see a plush carpet – blood red. Everything around her was dark – deep purples, blood reds, and black. It was sensual yet scary. Her exploration of the room stopped once she noticed that the music was not a dream.

Angelina took a few steps, noticing the nausea was not taking over her. The music was leading her, guiding her. She found her way to the doorway and peered out. The sight before her was unlike anything she had ever seen.

The corridors paled in comparison to what was before her. Candle operas were everywhere, every candle lit. The glow was beautiful, golden in color. A lake was in the middle of the large room, fog just laying over it like a mist. A small boat was docked near the shore. Sheet music, drawings, models were scattered everywhere. A small room was off to the side, shrouded by a large blood red velvet curtain.

It was what was off to the right of the staircase that led her down from the room that astounded her the most – a large organ. Candles surrounded it, illuminating it and making it that much more grand. The music was sensual and hypnotic. Angelina could not remember the last time that something so simple could make her feel the way she did now.

As she was about to approach the organ, she noticed a figure sitting at it. He seemed to be writing on sheet music, playing the tune and taking notes as he went. His black robe complimented the surroundings.

Thinking her presence wasn't felt, Angelina continued toward the organ…

* * *

He sat there, playing _his_ organ for the first time in years. It was like second nature, as if he had never stopped playing. The tune came to him, as if from a dream. His hands couldn't seem to keep up with what was haunting him, consuming him. His fingers glided over the keys, possessed by some force that was unknown to him.

The music echoed throughout the room. It filled some need that had been lying dormant in his soul. She had brought it to the surface. Just the mere sight of her sent every sense that he possessed into chaos. A fire raged inside of him, needing to be extinguished.

He had played for hours, writing music like he never had before. Inspiration was few and far between and he claimed the opportunity without resistance. He had thought it was his heart when he heard the thud echo throughout the room. Noticing it wasn't, he quickly got up and crossed the lake and climbed the winding staircase.

The sight before him claimed every last piece of resistance he had within his soul. _Angelina._ Lying atop the staircase, Angelina's arm hung over the first step, blood on her hand. He quickly rushed to her side and noticed that the wound he had mended, only hours before, had begun to bleed once again.

Gently picking her up, as he once did with Christine, he carried her down the winding staircase and across the river into his home. _If this is what you call a home._

He continued up the small staircase, entering his private domain. Laying her upon the bed, he noted the angelic look upon her face. Without wasting any time, he tended to her wound – stopping the bleeding and again bandaging it. He gently covered her with the sheets and watched her sleep for a few moments before returning back to his organ.

It had only been a few hours before he could feel her waking. His senses had now tuned into hers. He could feel her eyes open and become curious about her surroundings. She gently touched the bed post, ready to support herself if the need arose. Knowing that she was awake, he began to play the music he had just written. This time, he played it differently: sensually and hypnotic.

He felt her step from the confines of his room and out onto the balcony. He smiled as he felt her look around the room and marvel at what lied before her. _Just like her mother._ Sensing she thought he was not aware of her being awake, she began to approach him. He began to play harder, faster.

She finally reached him, her body close to his. He could feel her breathing, her breath hot on his neck. He was about to turn when her hand reached for his mask. He stopped – cold. _No! Not again!_ Before he could reach his hand out to stop her, she slowly slid her hand down from his mask and down to his hands on the organ. The move had not meant to be sensual but it sent his senses and mind screaming. One touch had knocked him from reality to the brinks of madness. Her touch was light as a feather and as warm as he could have ever imagined. He could not remember Christine being like this.

Looking at her, curiously, she sat beside him. She did not look at him but instead quickly began playing in tune with him. He watched her as her hands and fingers danced over the keys on the organ. He could hardly hide his excitement. _She possesses more talents then anyone could have ever imagined._

He let his hands slide from the organ and watched her play the piece she did not know. The song not completed, he watched as the last note he wrote, played. She continued on, a melody not yet written but knew was written in his soul. After playing more then her fair share of the song, she stopped and slowly removed her hands from the organ.

His gaze never left her and he watched as she slowly sat up straight. She did not look at him but kept looking at the music in front of her.

"You are talented, Ms. Chagny."

Her eyes widened at the sound of his voice. Her eyes finally met his and what he saw was beautiful. Her eyes were as blue as the lake and her smile as bright as the sun. _She is the image of an angel._

He slowly stood, the robe billowing around him. Her eyes never let go of his. Both of their hearts seemed to beat in time with one another – racing beyond their control.

He spoke again. "You asked for a teacher – I have come."


	8. Same Teacher, Different Student

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Phantom of the Opera. There are days I wish I did. Angelina and some of the other characters that are in here I own. The Phantom in this story is based after the one in the movie. The portrayal in that movie was unbelievable. I hope you all enjoy it and I would love to have reviews and comments. Enjoy!**

**A/N: Thank you to all who are posting comments! It is much appreciated. I hope that you will enjoy this chapter. I would love to hear your comments and concerns about this chapter. Enjoy it and I will update soon!**

**Chapter 8 – Same Teacher, Different Student**

The music continued to fill the room even though neither of them played. The look on her face must have been something. Angelina was shocked, beyond anything. _The voice. It's real. It's not a dream. He's real and he's standing in front of me._

As if being told by some spiritual force, she stood in front of the tall, dark, and handsome man in front of her. Although a white mask covered half of his face, it did not deter Angelina from noticing the handsome features on his face. His square jaw set off his perfect lips. As she continued to look, she noticed his eyes change with the light. They could be sky blue at one time or almost iridescent the next. They were memorizing none-the-less.

He was well-built and almost twice the size she was in height. Dressed in a fine tailored suit, he didn't look as though he belonged in the depths of the opera house. His hands were larger then hers and could probably just envelope them with no problems.

She hadn't meant for her breathing to become labored. Her chest rose and fell faster and harder then she had anticipated. His voice had sent her senses screaming in two different directions. Her mind had told her to leave while her soul had screamed for her to stay.

"You've…you've come?" Her voice stuttered, making her sound like a complete child. _I've only stuttered once. I still thank Alexander for that._

"You asked for a teacher."

He had heard her – through the mirror. She thought she was alone the room. The handprint was still upon the mirror where she had pressed her hand to it. Angelina had prayed for a teacher – an angel. _Could he be it? Could he be the answers to my prayers?_

He stepped closer to her and her breath caught. The weight of her midnight black hair was felt upon her shoulder for just a moment before he brushed it back from her face. His touch was like fire on her skin.

"Do you take back your plea?"

"I…I…" God, she was stuttering again. Trying to get her thoughts and senses in check, he gently slid his hand down her cheek and cupped the back of her neck. She stumbled and fell right into his arms. The large hand he possessed had begun to raise her face to look at him. His stare could have melted every resistance she had left.

"Do you take back your plea, Angelina?"

_He knows my name!_ _Oh my God, he knows my name and I never told him. Did I tell him my name?_ Her thoughts and memories were all jumbled. She couldn't remember five minutes ago. Finally, gathering two thoughts of her own, she stopped stuttering.

"I cannot answer unless I know your name."

Apparently he wasn't expecting that and took a step back from her. His hand never left her neck and his thumb caressed her neck in slow small circles. Angelina swallowed hard, trying to gain her composure.

"How can I answer you if I don't know your name? I cannot simply call you teacher the entire time you are teaching me."

"Calling me teacher would offend you?"

"I think someone of your talents deserves to be called by your name and not your title."

The shock on his face made Angelina smile. Taking all of the courage that she possessed, she stepped closer to him – making his own breath catch. She slowly put her own hand on top of his that rested upon her neck. She watched as his eyes danced from their hands to her eyes.

"Your name?"

"My name is…"

He stopped and she saw the hurt flash in his eyes. She shook her head, ashamed of herself. "I'm sorry. I should have never asked. It was not my place…"

"Erik…my name is Erik."

_Erik - an angel's name. My angel's name._ The music had finally stopped and the silence seemed to surround them. Both of them were both shocked by events that had only happened for a few moments. Neither of them wanted to let go of each other.

_What has she done to me?_

_What has he done to me?_

"Erik? That is your name?"

He couldn't find the words and only nodded his head. She slowly removed his hand from her neck but kept a hold of it.

"You saved me, Erik. I would have been lying on the staircase for days before someone would have found me. What can I do to repay you?"

"Be my student." The statement came out more as a command then a request. He cringed after hearing it. He noticed no change in her angelic looks and proceeded. "I mean…"

"You would teach me?"

"Yes."

"My voice is not that good and my skills are novice."

"I beg to differ."

The shock registered. _He was behind the mirror. He had heard me sing._ Erik slowly removed his hand from hers and took a step back. He smiled and gestured to everything around him.

"Let this be your classroom and I your teacher. I will teach you everything I can, Angelina. I will teach you everything that I couldn't…"

He stopped, watching the curiosity dance over Angelina's face. _You cannot tell her that you taught her mother. She will run just as Christine did._

"That I couldn't teach my other student."

"I will not fail you."

He smiled, her words warming him. "I have no doubts about that, Angelina. But you must return."

Disappointment came to her in waves. She did not want to leave. Angelina had finally felt at peace for the first time in her entire life. She felt as though she belonged there.

"I do not want to return."

"You will return and perform your dance for Carmen. The show is tomorrow night and my managers and choreographer need their star."

"But Brigitte…"

"Do not worry about Brigitte. This will be the last performance that she will be the lead singer. I guarantee you that."

"You cannot seriously be thinking that I will be head singer."

Once again he gently placed his hand to her cheek and watched peace come over the young girl's eyes. "Angelina, your place is front and center. All of Paris will want to come and hear you sing. I will make sure your place is in the spotlight."

He traced his hand down her cheek, to her neck, to her shoulder, and down her arm – finally joining their hands. "I will take you back to your room. You need to get some rest and then tomorrow evening; you will show your dancing skills to all of Paris. And I will watch you, as all of Paris will."

Erik gently picked her up and began over to his boat. He watched as the light from the surface began to fade with the coming darkness. Gently placing her in the boat, their gazes met for one last time.

"You will be magnificent and I will not be the only one to revel in the beauty of it."

Angelina felt him step into the boat behind her. Using a large pole, he pushed from the shore and began down the long hallway, guiding her home.

_A teacher._ She smiled. _I have a teacher. And he believes in me._ But something in her mind told her something she had been longing to do since Erik had told her that he would be her teacher. _I can tell no one. I cannot tell them I now have a teacher. They will think me mad._

She sat back and listened as the music began again and her teacher took her home.


	9. A Surprise Reunion

**I would like to thank everyone who is reading and reviewing my story. I hope you are all enjoying it. Please keep reading and reviewing! I promise it gets better as time goes on. I'm already on chapter 27, so these chapters are just the beginning. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9 – A Surprise Reunion**

The Opera Garnier was in complete and utter chaos. It was mere hours before the opening of Carmen. Set designers, costume designers, and many more were hurrying around the opera house, finishing designs and mending costumes. Dancers were in every part of the house, practicing. Singers continued to sing without music accompanying them.

Two older men stood off to the side, watching the chaos ensue. Smiles spread over their faces as Meg walked out from the wings, noticing them. Meg began over to them as both men nodded their heads at her.

"A marvel, Madam Giry. Truly spectacular."

"I believe we will be ready for tonight's performance."

"You should know, Arnaud, we have been working this opera for over a month."

"And I expected nothing less then perfection from my beautiful and talented wife."

Arnaud grabbed a hold of Meg's arm and brought her to him as she screamed in delight. His kiss was gentle upon her lips as was his arms around her waist. She gently rested her head against his chest as Arnaud's partner looked on.

"I am envious, Arnaud. I still have yet to find a wife."

"You will in time, Paul. In the meantime, I must steal my wife away. I have made reservations for lunch."

"I cannot leave the opera house, Arnaud. My dancers…"

"Will be fine without you for awhile. Trust me, my love, they've done it with you and they can surely do it without you."

As they began out, Arnaud stopped in his tracks as he watched Angelina come spinning down the stage. Meg watched as fascination fell over her husband's face.

"She is unbelievable, Meg. Her parents must be proud."

"They will not be in attendance."

Arnaud looked at Meg, shocked at his wife's statement. "Why not? I'm sure Christine would want to see her daughter in her first performance."

"Raoul could not convince her to leave Paris. He tried everything as did Angelina. She would not have it. Christine promised to see her next performance."

"That must be devastating to Angelina."

Meg watched as Angelina danced around the stage with more life and determination. Shaking her head, she looked at Arnaud. "Ever since this morning, she's been practicing non-stop. And she's been better then ever. She seems to have life that she never had before. I've never seen her like this."

"Then she truly will be the star of the show."

"Do not claim that too loud. Brigitte might hear you."

"I only tolerate her because of her name. I do not like her, Meg."

"Then we tolerate her. Let us go before we miss our appointment."

Meg and Arnaud left Paul to watch Angelina continue to dance around the stage. The conductor ceased the music as Angelina finished her final move and brought herself to the stage floor. He smiled at her.

"Brilliant as always, Angelina. You will be amazing tonight."

"I hope so, Monsieur. I would hate to disappoint Madam Giry."

"I do not believe you will do that."

Angelina smiled at the conductor and stood, brushing herself off.

"Anna!"

Angelina's eyes went wide and her smile as well. She slowly turned and saw a young man rushing toward her. She laughed and quickly began toward him. The young man took her in his arms and swung her around. Laughing as he put her down, Angelina looked at him.

"Alexander, what are you doing here?"

The young man smiled at her. "I could not miss my sister's first performance now could I?"

Alexander continued to smile at his sister. _She continues to grow more beautiful by the day._ He was no older then her, only by a few minutes. Angelina was his fraternal twin sister and they couldn't have been more opposite. He was much more like his father then like his mother. He possessed the knowledge of business and trade while his sister the arts.

They were connected by more then just blood, they did everything together. They could not be separated as children and with every passing day they grew closer and closer. When he had gone away to school, Angelina was devastated. Although she knew it was for the best, she protested for days. He had gone to a private school in Italy for several years before returning home just a few weeks ago.

His parents had informed him, although already informed by Angelina, that she had joined the ballet company in Paris. He was not worried and knew that Angelina would be well protected by Madam Giry. Until he could join Angelina in Paris, he knew she would be protected by her.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Carmen performed tonight and the star dancer sweep everyone off of their feet."

She laughed as did he. "I'm surprised you came. Mother and father wouldn't even come."

"You know how mother is, Angelina. She promised to come to the next one. In the meantime, you will just have to make due with me being here."

"I couldn't ask for anyone else."

"Are you so sure about that?"

Alexander watched as the smile left Angelina's face. She peered around him and saw another young man begin toward them.

"Jonathan…"

"Surely Alexander cannot be the only man in your life that you're happy to see."

The young man stepped in front of Angelina. Taking her hand, he gently kissed the back of it.

"Why are you in Paris? I thought you were back home helping your parents. Why are you here, Jonathan?"

"Do not sound so disappointed to see me, Angelina. I came to see my opera performed."

Her eyes widened. "You're the new patron?"

"I, Jonathan de Wynter, convinced my father to let our family fund the Opera Garnier. It took quite a lot of convincing. You should be happy about it."

Jonathan watched as mixed emotions crossed over Angelina's face. They had known each other since childhood and had practically grown up together. Both of their father's were good friends. His mother died during his childbirth and all he had was his father and his friends – Alexander and Angelina.

He and Alexander were like brothers. They did everything together, which usually meant that Angelina was not far behind. Jonathan and Angelina had grown close and he had even "married" her when they were ten. His father had no doubt that they will grow and get married when they were older.

It hurt him to know that she was disappointed that he was there. He thought Alexander was just as shocked at her reaction as he was.

"Anna, Jonathan funded the entire opera that is to be performed tonight. You should be happy."

"I am sorry, Jonathan. I've just had a lot on my mind."

"No doubt. After all you are the star of the dance company. I've heard all about it back home. I needed to come tonight to see what all of the rumors were about."

Alexander finally noticed the bandage on her head and looked at her with concern. "Anna, what happened to your head?"

"There was an accident on stage a few days ago. I saved Madam Raineau from being hurt."

"Always the guardian angel."

Alexander gently kissed her forehead and pulled back from her. "We cannot keep you from your dancing. Jonathan and I will be in attendance tonight to watch you perform."

"Thank you."

Alexander smiled at her once more before walking away. Angelina watched as Jonathan stepped along side of her. He lightly touched her forehead with his hand. She looked at him as he looked at her with concern.

"Should I get a doctor to look at that?"

"That will not be necessary. I've already had it taken care of."

"I've missed you, Angelina. Alexander has missed you."

"I've missed the both of you. It was just shock that overtook me. I did not mean to seem so disappointed to see you."

"I would wish you good luck in your performance but I know you do not need it. I will be watching you."

He gently kissed her cheek before walking away. A single tear rolled down her cheek. She had loved Jonathan at one time, when they were children. He used to goad her to do things she had never dreamed of doing.

But somehow seeing him left her cold and unsure of everything around her. She still felt love for him but at what cost? Did she still love him as she did when she was a child? Did her heart still belong to him as she had once promised?

"Practice."

She slowly looked up to the rafters, hearing Erik's voice but not seeing him.

"Practice…"

She closed her eyes and let his voice sooth her fears and nerves. She would perform tonight in front of all of Paris. Alexander would be in attendance. _And so will Jonathan…_

Taking a deep breath, she continued to dance with only the music in her head to guide her.

* * *

Carmen had received several standing ovations, most of them for Brigitte. But there were several flowers left back stage for Angelina. Most of them were from Alexander and Jonathan but there were others there that were from audience members and well placed members in Paris's society.

Angelina sat in her room and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked at all of the flowers behind her, the reflection not giving them justice.

A knock came upon the door and before she could answer, Meg peered inside.

"Angelina, you were wonderful."

She rushed to Angelina's side and enveloped her in a hug. Angelina smiled and pulled back from Meg. The show of affection and how proud she was showed on Meg's face.

"Arnaud would not stop talking about you."

"He's never one to stop talking as it is."

Meg laughed. "I know. But you were amazing. It was as if something was powering you throughout the entire performance. I've never seen you like that."

Something _had_ powered her throughout the performance. The thought of Erik watching her made her want to be perfect. Not only had she not wanted to disappoint Madam Giry but she did not want to give a bad first impression to her teacher. She had not failed in her task. Her dance was flawless and had been better then she had ever hoped.

She ignored the stares from Brigitte and had reveled in the looks from Gabriella and the rest of the company. Her solo had been the highlight of the opera. She had heard several people claim that as she walked by them to get to her room.

But she was disappointed. She had hoped for some sort of sign that Erik had watched her. She hoped that he was proud of her and what she had done. There was no sign and no indication that he had even watched her performance.

"Alexander is outside waiting to praise you. I will leave you two alone."

Angelina watched as Meg opened the door and Alexander stood outside, his hands behind his back. Her smile wide, Alexander walked inside and closed the door behind him.

"Jonathan is caught up with the managers and several financiers. I told him I would praise you for him."

Angelina stepped up to him and noticed his hands behind his back. "What is behind your back, Alexander?"

"I found this lying outside your door. I don't know who left it but I thought you should have it."

Alexander brought a beautiful red rose tied with a black ribbon from behind his back. Angelina's eyes widened in awe of the beautiful flower. _It's flawless. There isn't anything wrong with it. It must have taken someone hours just to find one as perfect as this._

He handed it to her and watched as joy overtook her face. He smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"I will leave you to your peace that I know you need. I will see you in the morning. Jonathan and I have several meetings but we will return in the afternoon to see you."

And with that, he left her staring at the rose in her hand. She touched the silky pedals, careful not to harm the rose in any way.

"You were magnificent, my child."

She closed her eyes, hearing Erik's voice.

* * *

On the other side of the mirror, Erik watched as she closed her eyes and began over to the mirror, guided by his voice. He slightly smiled as he watched her step in front of the mirror.

Angelina was dressed in a beautiful light pink flowing gown and her ballet slippers still on her feet. She looked angelic and…_like her mother._

Hoping to find him behind the mirror, she gently placed her hand on the mirror. He mimicked hers, placing his larger hand over the reflection of hers. His eyes closed.

"Rest, Angelina. Rest and tomorrow we will start your first lesson."


	10. Lesson One

**A/N: I'm sorry if I've offended anyone by what I've written. It will not follow exactly with Phantom of the Opera. And I'm also sorry if it seems as though Erik hasn't aged in 17 years. We all know that Erik has ways of making people see what they want. It might just be that Erik has done that to Angelina. Anna is just a nickname. I'm not sure why they call her that. Maybe it will be revealed in later chapters.**

**I hope that you enjoy this one. Read and review as always.**

**Chapter 10 – Lesson One**

_Dear Father –_

_My first performance was magnificent! It could not have gone better. Carmen received several ovations and they wanted an encore. You and mother would have been so proud of me. Alexander says he will write you later on and tell you of the performance. I cannot do it justice._

_I wish you and mother could have been there. It would have been nice to see my entire family in attendance. I know you promised me that you would be there next time. And I hope you hold true to your promise. The managers are still deciding the next opera and I'm sure it will be as great a success as Carmen was._

_Alexander came just in time along with Jonathan. It was a shock to see him standing there. It was even worse when I had learned he was the new patron. Do not get me wrong, father, Jonathan is a wonderful young man. And I did love him once. I just do not know if I could love him now. Maybe I am caught up in things and have not had time to truly think._

_I pray that everything is well with you and mother. Alexander says he will stay another week before returning home. I am keeping myself busy, continuing my studies of ballet and constantly reading different pieces of literature. My mind continues to expand with all of the knowledge I have acquired._

_With all my love, as always,_

_Angelina_

* * *

Angelina was up at the crack of dawn. She stood outside of the opera house and watched the sun rise just over the tops of some of the buildings in Paris. The sight was absolutely breathtaking and she had never really stopped to appreciate it before now.

Today was the first day of the rest of her life. She would begin her first lesson with Erik. The surprise of not even knowing what was in front of her, scared her and excited her. _What will he teach me? After he truly listens to my voice, will he change his mind?_

Quickly changing and taking a few moments to practice her dance for that night's encore performance of Carmen, she quickly waited in her room for Erik to come for her. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes into hours. Growing angry at herself and him, she quickly stood and began out toward the stage.

* * *

The moves were angry and forced. Her legs had wanted to collapse but Angelina would not allow it. _How could I have been so blind? He never wanted to teach me!_

She spun until she got dizzy and fell to the floor in a heap. Tears came to her eyes and fell to the wooden floor below her. All she wanted was to be taught. All she wanted was to be like her mother – the great opera star. She had failed in both respects.

"Lesson one!"

Angelina's head quickly shot up – her tears coming to a halt. She looked around her and found no one else there. _Did no one else hear his voice?_

"Patience is a virtue, my dear Angelina."

_He had not forgotten her._ She was blind to the most important lesson of all: patience. Her father had taught her that a long time ago but she had not been the best student of it. She was always anxious and wanting everything to come to her without waiting.

"Erik?"

"Stand up, my child."

Angelina rose to her feet, her legs feeling weak after working them till her anger diminished. Erik could see her but she could not see him. That bothered her. She wished to see him again. But as if he had read her thoughts, she heard him speak.

"Return to your room. You will begin your lesson as soon as you return."

She could not contain her excitement. Running from the stage, she willed her legs once more to return her to the room she had a new respect for.

* * *

The room had grown dark and cold. She shivered once she entered her room. The sound of music warmed her after entering the room. The mirror was slid open and the corridor lit by candlelight once again. 

She slowly stepped through the mirror and down the corridor to the top of the staircase. Angelina remembered last time she stood here and hoped not to relive the event.

"Do you know it is not wise to wander these corridors alone?"

Angelina screamed and began to fall. Strong hands grabbed a hold of her waist and pulled her away from the edge of the staircase. She slowly looked up into the eyes of Erik. He continued to hold onto her, hoping to cease her shaking.

"Are you alright?"

"You didn't need to scare me like that."

"I am sorry."

She clung to him, afraid to let go. The warmth of her body sent shivers down Erik's spine. Both reveled in the touch of one another. Angelina had never felt the touch of a man before – except for her father and Alexander. A kiss was something different. Remembering Jonathan, she knew that the feelings she had with him differed from that with Erik. She did not feel the tingling in her stomach as she had right now.

Erik, noticing the look on her face, slowly stepped back from her. Ever sense came alive by just the mere touch of her. Would he be able to survive just being a teacher and nothing else? Would his heart?

"You have successfully completed lesson one."

"I do not know if it was successful."

"Most divas would pout and carry on. You did not. That is a feat in itself."

"I will perform again tonight."

"And you will be marvelous, just as you were last night. And tomorrow, I believe the managers will reveal the new opera."

Angelina noticed the hint of amusement in his eyes. "You already know what they will choose?"

"In a sense. And tomorrow, after you wake, you will come to the organ and I will begin to prepare you for it."

"I cannot just take the rightful spot of Madam Raineau."

"Brigitte is a twit and a fool in her own right. You will be the lead in the new opera."

"Erik…"

Taking a step toward her, he gently put a finger to her lips – silencing her. "You will be the lead. I will teach you and you will be as magnificent as you are now. There will be no stopping you."


	11. The New Opera

**A/N: This chapter is a little longer then most. I had a lot to say for this one. I hope that you enjoy it and it isn't too long. I know that there is an upcoming chapter that I'm going to have to split into two chapters because of its length. Have a happy holiday and please enjoy chapter 11. R & R!**

**Chapter 11 – The "New" Opera**

Carmen had again received standing ovations. All of the patrons that attended were anxious to hear of the new opera the Opera Garnier would be producing. The patrons were not the only ones anxious. The dancers, singers, and stage hands were all as anxious.

Meg had begun to wonder as well. Her husband had been very tight lipped on what they would be performing. She had never known Arnaud to be like this. It frightened her.

She patiently waited on the stage with everyone else as both Arnaud and Paul walked through the opera house and onto the stage. Noting the expression on Arnaud's face, Meg became even more frightened. _Have we lost the funding? Will there be another opera?_

"I am sorry to have kept you all waiting. Paul and I have been trying to figure out the next opera to be performed. It took us quite some time…"

_He's stalling. Why is he stalling?_

"But we have come to a decision. The next opera that will be performed will be…"

Arnaud's eyes met Meg's. "Don Juan Triumphant."

Everyone noted their excitement except for Meg. Arnaud watched as fear appeared in Meg's eyes. He continued on, ignoring his wife's eyes for the briefest of moments. "Auditions will begin in several days time in which everyone that is apart of the company will be able to audition. The two leads, Don Juan and Aminta are very important roles and we will take careful care in casting them."

Arnaud continued on while the entire cast and crew talked amongst themselves.

"Rehearsals will begin one week from today. Madam Giry and her ballet company will handle all of the dancing and choreography while Monsieur Laurent will handle the direction of both the entire show and the music. Please, all of you begin to prepare now. This will be our biggest production yet."

Everyone began to disperse, leaving Meg standing there continuing to take it all in. Paul looked at Arnaud concerned.

"Leave us for a few minutes, Paul."

"I'll be outside."

He slowly approached Meg, unsure of what she would do. Tears were in her eyes and it broke his heart to see her like this. She slowly lifted her head and looked at him.

"Don Juan Triumphant?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

He could not give her the answer she wanted to hear. She had explained to him, when they first met, of the last performance of the Opera Populaire. It had devastated him when she told him the tale. The performance of the opera would tear her apart. She would not like the reason he had to give.

"The newest financier has requested the opera. He's willing to fund the entire thing from sets to costumes to even the payroll of the actors. Meg, we could not pass up this opportunity."

Meg knew what this opera house meant to her husband. There was nothing she could do. She also couldn't imagine who would fund this opera after hearing it at the Opera Populaire. She also wondered how the music was even recovered considering everything inside had burned.

There was one thing recovered that she held in a small box under her bed. The white mask that the Phantom left behind still resided with her. She would not give it up for the world: wanting to remind herself of the incident.

"My dearest Meg, I would have not done this if it were under any other circumstance. I know what this opera means to you."

"It could not be helped, Arnaud."

"Will you be able to choreograph it?"

"I will." He slowly took her hand and kissed the back of it. "I cannot let the past haunt me as it has for years."

"I will be along side you for the entire production. If you feel uncomfortable at all, you tell me. I will find someone else."

"This is my ballet company. I will choreograph it. I will not let you down."

He kissed her, as if thanking her and pleading for forgiveness. The sorrow in her eyes made him wish he had not agreed to do the opera. But there had never been an opportunity so great. He had discussed it for days with Paul, unsure of what to do. He had wanted to talk to Meg about it but feared what she would say. Right in the assumption, he had made a decision to do an opera that would strike fear in his wife's heart.

_God, what have I done?_

"Thank you for opening auditions to everyone."

He saw a glimmer of hope in a smile that began to form. A smile slowly began to form on his face as well. _It's good to see her smile. I remember why I fell in love with her._

"Maybe someone will claim the lead other then Brigitte."

"One can only hope, my love."

Meg's thoughts drifted to Angelina. _This could be the biggest opportunity presented to her. She needs to try out for it._ Her thoughts stopped short. _Aminta was Christine's role. Could she actually take a role that changed her mother's life? Did she even know?_

"There is a lot of preparation, Meg. We must get started."

* * *

"Again."

Angelina sighed. She was growing tired. It seemed like weeks since the newest opera was announced. Don Juan Triumphant was going to be a huge production. Erik seemed to be making a huge deal about it as well. She had been practicing non-stop. The music filled her head when she slept and when she woke. It consumed her. If it were food, she would be full a hundred times over.

"You need to be ready for auditions this afternoon."

Was he serious? Did he really expect her to audition for Aminta? Against Brigitte? She was singing to help improve her voice. It could not have been that good that fast.

"You cannot be serious."

"You will audition for Aminta."

"I am not suited for the role."

"You are more perfect for the role then anyone else that could be on that stage."

"My voice is not that good, Erik."

"It is perfection."

"It is far from it."

Erik's hand slammed on the organ causing Angelina to jump. She had never seen him angry. It frightened her. His white mask hid his facial expressions but she did not have to see them to understand he was upset with her.

"You think too little of yourself. Why?"

She had no answer. She didn't believe in herself – she never had. It was something that plagued her. Alexander did not help her in that respect. While hanging around him she had become a bit of a tomboy. It wasn't until a few months ago did she start acting like a proper lady. Her mother had seen to it.

"Do you not have an answer?"

"I do not."

Erik turned to her. It was not anger in his eyes but a mixture of kindness and concern. He did not understand why she would think so little of herself. Her voice was not Christine's but it was angelic and beautiful. Angelina's voice was a little deeper but could reach the notes needed for Don Juan. She had no idea the power she possessed. Her voice could become hypnotic and sensual at times he never could have imagined.

"You need to audition for this part. If I did not think you were ready I would not tell you to do so."

"Erik, I do not know if I can carry an entire opera. It is different with dancing. Singing is a realm I have not entered yet."

"You will not be entering it alone. I will be along side you the entire time."

He stood and looked down upon her. She was so afraid to let go of the fears she held, she would risk an opportunity that would not come to her again. He had offered the managers everything they wanted on a silver platter. Erik wanted Don Juan Triumphant performed again. No money or expense would be spared. He would not be denied the opportunity of a lifetime to hear his opera performed once again.

Something willed him to touch her face, to assure her everything would be alright. His touch was gentle upon her cheek. Her eyes closed as soon as she felt him touch her. All of her fears were cast aside. She did not remember having any.

He leaned in close to her ear. His voice was carried to her ear on the whisper of the wind. "Aminta is a part meant for you. Audition and I promise you that I will be by your side. You might not see me but I will be there. There are no fears and no doubts. You will send chills up everyone's spine. There will not be a closed mouth in the entire opera house. You will show all of Paris what you are meant to be."

* * *

The auditions seemed to continue on forever. Arnaud was getting tired of hearing singers that could not hit the notes that needed to be for Aminta. Even Brigitte, the mighty Brigitte, could not hit them. She ran screaming from the stage while Arnaud and Paul laughed to themselves.

Noticing Brigitte was the last on the list, Arnaud sighed. He had not found a single person to fill the role. Don Juan had already been cast to Rene DuBois, a twenty-five year old newly discovered opera singer. He had been absolutely perfect for the role. Arnaud did not have to audition anyone else.

Aminta, on the other hand, was becoming a problem. Paul had grumbled through most of the auditions as did Monsieur Laurent. Neither was impressed with any of the hopefuls. He did not want to have to cast Brigitte but it seemed he had no choice.

"It seems as though we only have one candidate for the role."

"I would like to audition."

Arnaud's head shot up at the sound of Angelina's voice. She stood at center stage and smiled at them.

"Angelina, you wish to audition?"

"Have you found an Aminta yet?"

"No."

"Then may I at least try?"

"Of course!"

He gestured for Monsieur Laurent to begin a part of the opera. Angelina stood there and waited for her cue. Without hesitation, she began…

"…no thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy! No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love!"

Both Paul and Arnaud sat there and looked at Angelina, shocked. Monsieur Laurent quickly stopped the orchestra and looked up at Angelina. The looks on their faces confused Angelina. She was afraid she had not done what she had set out to do. Remembering what Erik had told her, she slowed her breathing and watched as Arnaud leaned over to Paul.

"She's unbelievable, Arnaud. Where have you been hiding her?"

"If I'd have known, she'd have been on stage rather then Brigitte."

"She's perfect."

"We found Aminta."

Arnaud stood and walked up the steps to the stage. Angelina's heart began to race even more then before. It took every ounce of courage she had to just step out onto the stage. The expression Arnaud wore on his face revealed nothing. He grasped her by the shoulders and looked at her.

"I hope you enjoy the spot you are standing in."

"Why?"

"Because this is where you will be opening night when the curtains close and reopen for you to take a bow. Congratulations, Aminta."


	12. The Passion Within

**A/N: Ok, you'll have to bear with me on this one. Trust me, things are going to definitely get hotter. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story. Please keep R & Ring. I enjoy hearing all of it!**

**Chapter 12 – The Passion Within**

The sound of the mirror sliding shut had woken Angelina. _3 a.m._ _Does he ever sleep?_ She slowly got up and noticed the rose and note laying on the table - the red skull apparently his seal.

The seal was broken open by her unsteady hands. _I need to wake-up._ She quickly read what he had written her:

_Dearest Angelina,_

_I know you will hear the sound of the mirror closing. I want you to get dressed and come to the stage. Rehearsal begins early today. You may sleep in after you and I practice. I know that Madam Giry will understand. There are only a few days before Don Juan is performed. I want you at perfection status. Come prepared to work. I will expect nothing less then perfection. You will practice until you get it right._

_Erik_

She continued to look at the note as if it was going to change wording. _How dare he! He might be my teacher but he has no right…_ She sighed. Angelina knew that she expecting nothing but perfection from herself. It was something that she wanted ever since she was little. Everything she did had to be done perfect or it wasn't done.

Knowing he was right, she put down the note and began to get dressed. She paid careful mind to the lacing of her shoes and then realized she did not need them. Aminta was barefoot through most of the musical. Her dancing required moves without ballet shoes. She was becoming accustomed to accomplishing the small feat. It was a new and an exciting experience and she took it head-on.

* * *

Angelina stood in the middle of the stage with a lone spotlight on her. She tried to look around but the spotlight was too bright to see anything else in front of her. _Was he there? Was he in a seat in the audience?_

Music began to fill the opera house. She wondered how anyone was still asleep. It continued to grow in intensity until it stopped abruptly.

"Aminta is a maiden betrayed by her own heart." His voice echoed in through the rafters and into her heart. "She has fallen for Don Juan, even though she does not know it is him. Don Juan would do anything to be with Aminta – even portray that of another man."

Erik's presence was felt although he wasn't seen. His voice pierced her like no one else's ever had. Angelina became hypnotized just by his voice alone. It was as if some sort of spell had overcome her with no control and no way of stopping it.

"In her heart she knows what must happen. How could Don Juan ever love her if he loves every woman?"

Angelina could hear him walking on the stage but could not see him. The click of his boots echoed throughout the barren opera house. She continued to wonder how no one else could hear him or the music that had played. Could they _truly_ be that alone in the opera house?

"Don Juan must be played with passion…with sensuality. You must become Aminta. You have not done that."

She hung her head. She was afraid of everything he just said Don Juan was. Sensuality and passion was not something she was used to. She was young and inexperienced in the ways of the world. Her parents loved each other very much and were very affectionate toward one another. And she knew, at one time, there was passion in their lives beyond their control. There were days it still existed and Angelina could see it in both of their eyes.

But she was far from ever being passionate and sensual. The basic concepts she understood. However, actually expressing them was beyond any reasoning she had. She had very little self-esteem when it came to anything of that nature. Shyness was too light a term for it.

"Why?"

This was the second time he had asked her a question in the past few weeks that she had no answer for. She did not understand it herself and neither could her parents. She had been this way since childhood and never seemed to grow out of it.

"You fear it."

He had taken the fears inside of her and had exposed them. They were lying out in the open now, for the entire world to see. She felt naked and alone. Never had she felt like this. No one ever knew what she feared. Erik did. He knew. And he had little regard to her feelings.

"I will rid you of that fear. Don Juan _will_ be played with passion and sensuality – as it was meant to be. By opening night, you will have nothing but passion in your heart and sensuality on your mind. Aminta will be played like never before. No one will know where you came from and no one will want you to leave. You will be Aminta! And the entire opera house will fall at your feet."

With lightning speed, Erik had his arms around her waist and he quickly pressed her against him. Angelina swallowed a scream as his fingers slowly began massaging her stomach. Shivers ran down her spine as his hands slowly worked up from her stomach to her hips and slowly up the sides of her body.

Over the weeks of rehearsals, Erik had watched Angelina in a new light. From the rafters above, he slowly saw the woman who wanted to be free – free from the chains of fears and doubts. She was _not_ a replica of Christine. No. Angelina contained her own sensuality that had yet to be tapped. There was a woman inside yearning to be free. It was slight moves, words, or even the sound of her voice. Erik could tell that, if when freed, Angelina could be a very passionate and sensual person. When she was free she would move from child to woman.

Her sensuality had brought new light to Erik's music unlike anything had ever had before. He had continued to write and play day and night. Unable to sleep, the music consumed him and images of Angelina performing his grandest opera of all gave him the energy to continue on. Erik's hands furiously flew over sheet music and the keys on his organ. Music filled the cavern for nights on end. The water rippled at the intensity of it.

Angelina's bottled up sensuality was beginning to get under Erik's skin and she had no idea she was doing it. He would be damned if he let anyone else discover it before he did. He did that once with Christine and he would not be so foolish this time. Jonathan de Wynter was a problem that he never saw. Although Angelina seemed to avoid him like the plague, unlike Christine with Raoul, he still worried about his "student" leaving him once again. He would do what was necessary to keep Angelina with him.

Hands continued upward, slowly over Angelina's rib cage. Her soft sighs gave Erik the indication that he was right. There was sensuality within her and she was just afraid to let it out. Her eyes slowly closed…

"Do not close your eyes."

She slowly let them flutter open as her chest began to rise and fall with intensity. He continued upward with his hands.

"Don Juan knows just what to do with Aminta to have her bow to his will." His hands slowly crossed over her collar bone - as light as a feather. Erik watched her eyes glaze over as his fingers played with the sensitive spot just over her collar bone. "With one touch, he could send her senses soaring to the heavens."

Angelina could not figure out where to put her hands. She kept her arms stiff at her sides. His touch was burning every sensation in her body. Did he know what he was doing to her? What his touch was doing? One of his hands continued to linger upon her neck as the other ran down her arm and his hand connected with hers. He slowly brought her hand to his face and touched the unmasked side. She had never felt such soft skin. She longed to turn and see him. As she attempted to, he leaned near her ear.

"Was Aminta afraid of what she could be with Don Juan? Could the innocent young woman, who wanted to be with Don Juan more then life, be afraid of change? Was it the fear inside of her that would not let her passion be set free? Was she afraid of the passion he had for her?"

Erik quickly turned Angelina around. The hands that once touched his unmasked cheek now had made their way to his chest. His other hand continued to linger on Angelina's neck. He looked in her eyes and saw that she was not afraid of him but afraid of herself. His thumb lightly caressed her neck in small slow circles.

Angelina tried to control her breathing but she could not. _This is not how it's going to be on stage. It will not be Erik in front of me, it will be Monsieur DuBois._ He was a marvelous actor but she would not feel the sensations she did now with him. She finally gathered the voice to speak.

"Erik, it will not be you with me on the stage. It will be Rene DuBois."

He smiled and watched as the expression on her face changed from clouded to bewildered. Gently kissing the back of her hand, he let go of her and began to retreat into the darkness.

Angelina watched him go, feeling alone once again. But this time there was a sense of longing. His touch had left his mark today. She had never felt like this. Was she supposed to? Was this what he was talking about? Had she finally felt passion and sensuality? Did she have it in her to make that come alive in her performance?

"My dearest Angelina, all you need is to think of me. Do not imagine Monsieur DuBois standing in front of you – imagine me."

Did he know? Could he possibly know that she had feelings for him? _My God, did I just say that I had feelings for him? He is my teacher. Nothing more. How could I let this man get under my skin as he has?_

"My dear, you must sleep. You need your rest. Don Juan awaits."

And as if a gust of wind brought him to her, the same gust had taken him away. Angelina stood on the stage as the spotlight began to dim.

Angelina began a silent prayer as she fell to her knees…_God, please help me. I think I'm falling for Erik. Guide me. Save me. Help me love. Show me the path of which I am to take. I fear my heart has run away. Tell me it is not love. Tell me that it is a crush of a silly girl on her teacher. Please, God, save me._


	13. The Return of the True Diva

**A/N: Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing. Your praise is wonderful. I'm glad you liked the last chapter. Chapter 14 will be split into two parts. It's rather long but I couldn't get it any shorter. Please enjoy this one. And I know that I used the word passion a lot in the last one. Sorry! I'll try not to do that again. Enjoy Chapter 13!**

**Chapter 13 – The Return of the _True_ Diva**

The fog had finally begun to rise as the doors to the Opera Garnier opened. Carriages sat outside upon the cobble stone, containing some important guests. Paul and Arnaud quickly rushed outside and watched as the doors to several of the carriages opened. Arnaud smiled as he saw Jonathan step out of one. Quickly rushing over, Jonathan and Arnaud shook hands.

"Is the opera ready for opening night, Arnaud?"

"Beyond ready. You will be excited to see it, Monsieur de Wynter. It is the best production yet."

"I have no doubts. I hear that you have a new financier and that is why this production is going on."

"Monsieur de Wynter, we are very humbled by your contributions, but this gentleman, who wished to remain anonymous, wished to fund the entire production."

"How generous of him."

"We have reserved you and your guests Box Five for your enjoyment."

"Thank you."

Arnaud turned and watched as another carriage door opened and Alexander stepped out. He smiled and walked over. Arnaud captured him in a hug and pulled back from Alexander.

"My God! You've gotten taller."

"The last time you saw me, Arnaud, was when I was seven."

"And you have grown."

Alexander laughed at the statement. "Yes, I have."

"You look exactly like Raoul."

"He should. He has his father's genes."

Arnaud looked up and saw Raoul de Chagny step out from another carriage. He used a cane to support himself but still looked youthful for his age.

"But the boy has spirit like his mother."

"I hope someone takes after me."

The angelic voice caught Arnaud's ear. _Has she come? Has Christine de Chagny returned to Paris?_

A slender leg stepped from the carriage, helped by Raoul. Arnaud slowly looked up and saw Christine standing there in a beautiful navy gown. Every curl upon her head was placed accordingly and no expense spared. A shawl covered her bare shoulders and she stood closely to Raoul. Arnaud could see the fear in her eyes once she looked upon the opera house.

"Madam de Chagny, what an honor."

Christine smiled at him. "Arnaud, please do not call me that. After all, you are my best friend's husband. I expect to be called Christine and nothing else."

"As you wish."

Arnaud slowly walked over to her, still taking in her beauty. No wonder Raoul had wanted to marry her. She was absolutely radiant. Everything about her spoke beauty and grace. Angelina took after her in that respect. Her skin was still milky white, as he remembered from his and Meg's wedding. Her smile was radiant and her laugh – like an angel.

Raoul took his wife's hand as Arnaud kissed the back of the free one. "Your children are very lucky to have such wonderful looking parents."

"If you are trying to impress us, Arnaud, there is no need." Raoul had replied. "We're staying whether or not you want us here."

Arnaud laughed at the comment. "You are very welcome at this opera house. It is an honor to be standing in the presence of a _true_ diva."

"What is this I hear about someone debating my abilities?"

He cringed at the thought. The news of Brigitte had reached Christine. He had hoped that Angelina would leave out that small detail.

"Madam Raineau meant no disrespect, Christine."

"I am not afraid of insults, Arnaud. It is the feelings of my daughter that I worry about." She stepped forward and looked at Arnaud. "If Angelina feels the need to defend me she will. Madam Raineau has not known wrath until she has incurred my daughter's."

"I shall remember that."

Raoul stepped along side Christine and looked at her. "Speaking of Angelina, why don't we go inside and show her we kept true to our promise."

Raoul took Christine's hand and they both began into the opera house. The love and devotion of the couple was still apparent. Raoul did not let go of her hand and Christine's gaze never left his. Her smile still lit up his heart and his touch still touched her soul.

Their fate was entwined long before this moment. Their children only secured it. Angelina and Alexander were their pride and joy. They could not have hoped for better children. Both were well educated and very intelligent. Although both had separate lives, each one still continued to rely on one another, much like Christine and Raoul did. Their family was a rare one indeed. They all loved one another and would do anything to see that they were not harmed.

* * *

Angelina walked across the stage, barefoot and afraid. Gabriella watched her as she continued to pace back and forth.

"I wish you would stop pacing."

"I am so afraid."

"I do not know why. You were born for this role."

"I surely hope so."

"And as you can see, the entire opera house has been newly refitted." Arnaud's voice echoed through the opera house.

Both Gabriella and Angelina looked up and saw Arnaud leading several people to the stage. Angelina's face lit up.

"It's my father. He came!"

"This is all wonderful, Arnaud. However, I am interested in something else." Raoul spotted Angelina as he finished his statement. "I rest my case."

Angelina ran right into her father's arms. Raoul held onto her as if all of the life was draining from her. He didn't realize how much she meant to him until this moment. He quickly pulled back from her and looked upon her.

"You've changed."

"I have?"

"You have grown more beautiful. I did not think it was possible."

Angelina blushed at the sentiment. "I did not think it was possible either."

"Where is Angelina?"

Angelina's eyes went wide and she looked over to see Christine standing just behind Raoul. _How could I have not seen her?_ Christine held out her arms and Angelina quickly fell into them. Both embraced each other – taking in unspoken words to one another.

"Arnaud will not tell me what role you are playing in the new opera."

"It is a secret. I told Arnaud not to tell you." She smiled devilishly at Christine.

"Not even a hint?"

Angelina quickly shook her head. "I cannot stay. I must rehearse. It is good to see the both of you."

Angelina quickly ran off with Gabriella not far behind her. Christine and Raoul looked at each other and smiled.

"She is the same way you were."

"Do not say that, Raoul."

"But it's true." Raoul kissed Christine and gently put a hand to her face. "She loves to dance and to make a spectacle of everything. And she is beautiful, just like you. She will find love soon enough." He glances at Jonathan as Jonathan watches Angelina run right past him.

"What role could she possibly have?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

* * *

He watched from the rafters, careful not to make a sound. Watching below he not only caught the sight of Angelina but the one person he never expected to find: Christine. Just when Erik thought all thoughts of her were pushed aside, they resurfaced. They were unwanted memories and they came to him in waves.

He had finally moved on with his life. A new student and possibly…_Get rid of the thoughts, Erik. She would never think of you in that respect. You are her teacher and she, your student. Nothing more._

But that was the same way he thought of Christine when had first laid eyes on her. Her father had promised her an Angel of Music just before he died. Madam Giry had told him this. In order to relieve the suffering of a child, he came to her. His voice soothed her.

But with renowned hope, the girl had begun to sing. He had lost all sense of reason and had set out to make Christine the girl who would rise to the top. He would become her teacher. Christine would sing _his_ opera. He could not do it himself so he would use Christine as a vessel to ensure everyone would hear his work.

As time progressed, Christine became more to him then that. He loved her. He never thought he could love someone as much as he did Christine. She became an obsession – a need.

Then Raoul came. He was her childhood sweetheart and nothing would deny their love or their passion. It had broken Erik. It tore him in two. He swore revenge and Don Juan became something more then just his creation. It became a way for him to "claim" Christine and show her that she didn't need Raoul and that she needed him.

Things went from bad to worse. And at the end, he had let the both of them go. She kissed him, setting his soul free. In a moment of love and devotion, he told Christine to go and leave him to his heartache and pain. She had returned and he had thought for good, but no. After ripping the necklace and ring from her neck at the masquerade ball, he had given the ring to Christine as a promise to her. She returned it to him, giving him a piece of her that he could hold forever.

It had taken years to try and get over her. Years passed and the heartache still remained. Angelina came into his life and the pain began to leave a little faster. But now all hope of it ever leaving haunted him. Memories racked him and the pain set in. A single tear rolled down the unmarred side of his face. He did not even bother to brush it away.

The presence of Christine would not disturb him. His new student was to perform Don Juan tonight. She would give Paris something to talk about. Angelina had made great strides in the past few days. But with the final plan in place, Angelina would become something she never expected: a star.


	14. Don Juan Triumphant? Part I

**A/N: This chapter will be in two parts. It's a long chapter and I didn't want to post it all at once. The lyrics are not mine, they belong to Andrew Lloyd Webber. Without them, this story would not be possible. As always, please R & R. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 14 – Don Juan Triumphant?**

To Angelina, the day had flown by with nothing accomplished except the growth of more butterflies in her stomach. She was beyond nervous and could talk to no one about it. Her fears and doubts would have to be hers alone. She would have to take them on herself.

She stepped into her room one more time. The dress she wore was a little tight but nothing to complain about. It still let her move freely about the stage without any restriction. Her feet were cold and the bracelet upon her ankle was chilled and sent shivers up her spine as it connected with her skin.

There was a lone candle lit on a table near the mirror in her room. _I don't remember lighting that._ Slowly walking over to the table, she noticed a red rose upon it, tied in a black ribbon. _Erik._ He did not have to leave a note. The rose, in itself, was enough of a message to her. He believed in her and he wished her luck. No words needed to be spoken. The rose had spoke volumes.

She looked in the mirror one last time. Was he watching her? Did he see her with the rose? She gently broke the stem the slightest bit and removed the ribbon. He would be with her tonight - both in spirit and in her heart. She stuck the rose in her hair and looked at herself.

"I am Aminta. I am Aminta."

She took one last deep breath and walked out of her room: feeling like a star.

* * *

Christine, Raoul, Jonathan, and Alexander took their seats in Box Five. Raoul looked around him, remembering a time when he sat in Box Five for Christine. Now he was doing it for his daughter. He was proud of her and he could not express it enough to her. The phrase "daddy's little girl" held true of him and Angelina. He loved her with everything he had and would see no harm come to her.

But something bothered him. The atmosphere seemed all wrong. Something wasn't right. He looked at Christine and saw she was actually relaxed for the first time since she had entered Paris.

Christine felt at home. Although memories flooded her, she still felt content being in an opera house again. It had been ages since she had even stepped foot into one. Raoul had tried for years after the "incident" but she would not have any of it. She was afraid of being inside one.

After being away for so long, she had forgotten what it was like. She could just imagine how Angelina was feeling. She was always nervous before an opening night. Christine had hoped the tradition was not carried down.

The curtains opened and both Raoul and Christine gasped in horror…

* * *

Angelina stood off stage right and watched Rene get into position behind the curtain that entered the stage from in the back. They had good chemistry and she had no doubts that they would do well together on stage. She thought back to the other morning when Erik had shared the stage with her. _No one will give me the thrill of being on the stage like he did._

She heard the orchestra start and she said a silent prayer to herself. _I am Aminta. I am Aminta._ The curtains opened as she listened to the audience gasp.

* * *

The stage had an amber glow to it. Although it was Don Juan Triumphant, Meg had made sure the stage look nothing like it did the night at the Opera Populaire. Several different fires were set about the stage, controlled and watched at all times. Instead of a large "fire" in the middle of the stage, a large round table sat there. Upon the table was a bottle of wine, a sword, cape, and a hidden mask.

The entire stage was set in oranges and reds, giving it a seductive and passionate look. Arnaud would not let Meg take that away. And the stairs and catwalk was a must. As much as Meg argued her point, Arnaud and Paul would not hear of it. She made sure the set constructors had not put a trap door in the cat walk and there was no open pit in the middle of the stage.

The costumes had not differed much either. They were dark and looked seductive. The entire chorus had different costumes in black, red, and brown. The women wore dresses with the skirts at different lengths while the men had suits with a variety of different vests and ties.

Meg knew the finished product would look much like that night, but there was no choice. She tried her best to not make it look that way. She would watch Angelina like a hawk and pray to God that nothing went wrong.

* * *

The orchestra began the opening tune to Don Juan. Monsieur Laurent ignored the gasps around him and continued conducting. He watched as the chorus began on stage with Brigitte leading them. They begun to sing the song they had rehearsed for weeks to get right. Monsieur Laurent said a silent prayer and continued conducting.

"Here the sire may serve the dam, here the master takes his meat! Here the sacrificial lamb utters one despairing bleat!"

They continued their song and dance, dancing around the fires and each other. None of them seemed to notice the expressions on any of the audience – their minds were too focused on the task at hand.

"Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your young of stolen sweets, you will have to pay the bill – tangled in the winding sheets! Serve the meal and serve the maid! Serve the master in that, when tables, plans and maids are laid Don Juan triumphs once again!"

They all moved off to the side, in unison, as Gabriella stepped through the curtain from the back of the stage. She smiled and danced her way down to the center of the stage. Gabriella had made her mark. She lit up the stage with just her small dance and presence alone. Knowing Rene was not far behind; Gabriella looked behind her and watched him step through the curtain with a small bag in his hand.

Gabriella looked back at him, pleading, doing her part to the letter. Rene gestured for her to dance one more time and Gabriella did so. He smiled and tossed her the small bag. Gabriella bowed and danced her way off of the stage, allowing Rene to take the spot where she had once stood.

Right on cue, Rene watched another man enter from the same way he did. Rene smiled at the man and turned to him, ready to take the song to another level.

"Passarino, faithful friend, once again recite the plan."

"Your young guest believes I'm you – I, the master, you, the man."

Rene smiled at "Passarino" while making his way to the table in the middle of the stage. Picking up his cloak and sword, he turned back to "Passarino" and continued on with the song.

"When you met, you wore my cloak, she could not have seen your face. She believes she dines with me to her master's borrowed place! Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what in truth, is mine. When it's late and modesty starts to mellow, with the wine."

"You come home! I use your voice – slam the door like crack of doom!"

"I shall cry, 'Come hide with me! Where, oh, where? Of course – my room!'"

"Poor thing hasn't got a chance!"

Rene quickly gave his cloak and sword to "Passarino" and began toward the back of the stage, snatching a mask that was hidden on the table.

"Here's my hat, my cloak, and sword. Conquest is assured, if I do not forget myself and laugh…"

Rene laughed on the way off of the stage and quickly walked behind the curtain. Unseen by anyone out front, Rene held out his hand with his mask in it. A figure, a "ghost", snatched the mask from Rene and put it on. Rene could feel nothing but concern but let his fears be pushed aside.

"You will not have much time when the song is over."

The figure did not reply to him and stood ready to make his entrance.

* * *

Angelina watched as Rene walked through the curtain. _This is it! You can do this. Don't fail me now. Remember, he's watching._

Without any hesitation, Angelina walked from stage right and began to walk onto the stage, carrying only a basket with flowers inside. She smiled, looking out at the audience. _What a rush!_

"…no thoughts within her head, but thoughts of joy! No dreams within her heart, but dreams of love!"

Angelina sat down toward the right of the stage as she waited patiently for Rene to make his grand entrance once again. She did not have to wait long as she heard the curtain being pulled back. Fear coursed through her and she quickly tried to contain it.

"Passarino" looked at the figure who has just stepped through the curtain. He knew something was wrong. Although he was the same build and height as Rene, he knew that the new "Don Juan" was far from being Rene. Trying not to take up too much more time, he continued on with the song, ignoring every sense that was screaming to him to stop the opera.

"Master?"

"Passarino – go away! For the trap is set and waits for its prey…"

* * *

Raoul watched as Christine's eyes went wide. He put a hand on her shoulder and noticed her skin had gone cold and clammy.

"My love, what is it?"

"That voice. Raoul, I know that voice."

"It's just your imagination. Just a memory, Christine."

"No, it's not a memory. It's him! He's on stage with Angelina!"

* * *

Erik looked at Angelina sitting off to the side. He took a deep breath before continuing, knowing that he could be condemning himself for even trying to do this once again.

"You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish, which till now has been silent, silent…"

Erik watched as Angelina's eyes began to widen. He knew she recognized his voice but could somehow still not place it. Slowly putting his finger to his lips as he said "silent", he continued down stage with his slow approach to her. He wanted to make it last and he would – without any interruption.

"I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge – in your mind your mind you've already succumbed to me…"

* * *

Angelina's head slowly turned and she looked at the figure walking toward her. She noted the mask and the cape but the voice… _It's the voice. I know it. Why can't I place it?_

She watched as he continued down stage toward her – slowly and seductively. That morning with Erik slowly crept back into her mind as, without thought, she rose to her feet. She did not break eye contact with "Don Juan", whoever he was. It was not Rene; she knew that much for a fact. But she would continue on and hope that she could without faltering.

"…now you are here with me: no second thoughts, you've decided, decided…"


	15. Don Juan Triumphant? Part II

**A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed the first part of Chapter 14. Here's the second. I'd love to hear the feedback. Keep it coming. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 14 – Don Juan Triumphant? Part II**

He refused to make this anything like he did with Christine. Although he knew she was watching, Erik focused on Angelina. He wanted this to be "theirs" until his new opera was written. He wanted to make a mark on society like never before. He would do it! This was his night!

"Past the point of no return – no backward glances: our games of make-believe are at an end…"

He slowly began toward her as she looked at him with curious eyes. He had to smile. Angelina still had no idea it was him.

"Past all thought of 'if' or 'when' – no use resisting: abandon thought and let the dream descend…"

Was he ready for this? Could he truly try to seduce another woman after Christine? His mind screamed 'no' while his heart said 'yes'. _Breathe, Erik, breathe!

* * *

_

Angelina watched the figure creep closer and closer to her. The sensations of that morning continued to rise. She refused to believe it was Erik. He had not shown his face the entire time she had been in the company. _Why would he now?_

Without second thought, the figure lunged at her, securing her in his embrace. His hands slowly roamed her stomach and rib cage. All thoughts she had left her mind.

"What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire unlocks its door? What sweet seduction lies…"

He slowly turned her, continuing to run his hands over her sides. As he slowly slid away from her, her breathing began to rise. _My God, could it he be him! Or has something been released inside of me that cannot be stopped?_

His hand slowly left her body as he looked at her – seductively. She stood there, mesmerized by him. The touch left a tingling sensation all over her body. She longed to keep his touch but knew she had to stay in character.

* * *

Erik watched her eyes glaze over. He hoped he released the part of her that needed to be. Doubts filled his mind. _Will she be able to do this next part? Please, tell me she will._

"…before us? Past the point of no return, the final threshold – what warm, unspoken secrets will we learn…"

He watched her, carefully. Right on cue, he turned from her but keep his gaze on her. _Take it! Take the opportunity!_

"…beyond the point of no return…"

* * *

Angelina watched as the figure took a few more steps away from her and turned his entire body from her. His eyes still met hers, piercing through her. This was it. This was her moment. _It's now or never._

"You have brought me to that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence, silence…"

* * *

The memories were coming back to her like a tidal wave. Christine sat there as she watched Angelina be seduced by the same man who tried to force her to marry him. 

She heard Raoul somewhere in the distance, even though he was sitting next to. Her thoughts were all jumbled. Only one could be processed: _I need to save Angelina.

* * *

_

Turning her own body away from him, Angelina faced the audience and broke the gaze. She looked out, not really seeing anyone and only feeling the presence beside her.

"I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why…In my mind…"

It hit her like a lightning bolt. Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath. _It was Erik. It has to be._ No one could send her mind screaming like that. He had captured her – sending her reeling from reality. She quickly regained her composure but keeping her eyes closed, thinking of the verse she was singing.

"…I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent…"

She turned to the figure and looked at him, finally becoming Aminta. Her gaze became seductive in a heartbeat, as if her soul had finally found what it had been searching for.

"Now I am here with you: no second thoughts, I've decided, decided…"

* * *

Erik saw a flash of something in her eyes. The gaze said it all. _She's become Aminta._ He watched as Angelina slowly began toward the stairs. Mimicking her every move, Erik began up his own set, watching her as she continued to look at him with a whole different outlook on life. 

"Past the point of no return – no going back now: our passion-play has now, at last, begun…"

* * *

She watched Erik climb his own side of the stairs up to the catwalk above. Her heart began to race – her senses truly coming alive for the first time. 

"Past all thought of right or wrong – one final question: how long should we two wait, before we're one…?"

Erik stopped just before he reached the top. She stopped with him, mimicking his move.

"When will the blood begin to race, the sleeping bug burst into bloom?"

* * *

He began walking again, finally regaining feeling in his legs. Remembering the night when he was with Christine, Erik remembered their song and dance – _the same as right now._

Erik reached the top of the staircase just as Angelina did. He stood tall and looked at Angelina with her new found freedom. She was first to take the step forward and begin toward him. The pause wasn't long but his legs moved like lead. It was as if everything was happening in slow-motion.

"When will the flames at last consume us…?"

* * *

Angelina had never heard such a union of voices. Her soul sung once Erik's voice had joined with hers. She would never feel anything like that again in her entire lifetime. 

They continued toward each other, as if a magnet had been attached to them both. Sensuality, passion, and seduction hung heavy over the catwalk. Angelina would have never known if there was anyone else sitting there and watching them. All she saw was Erik and that's all that mattered.

"Past the point of no return, the final threshold…"

They finally reached each other. For the first time, she grasped him by the waist with her tiny hands. She had no idea how big of a figure he was until she truly touched him. Every emotion flooded her in that moment as Erik's hands quickly went to her waist. She watched him as his hands slowly began to follow her rib cage but he quickly broke the hold…

* * *

Just when he thought it was all right, it was all wrong. He needed to hold Angelina differently. This part wouldn't be right if she faced him. He noticed the look of disappointment in her eyes before he turned her and took her hands and entwined them with his. 

He slowly placed them on her stomach and began to rub his and her hands on her body. There was more then just touch of hands on her body. He felt her soul.

"…the bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn…"

He let go of her hands and brought his hands to the sensitive spot right above her collar bone. Watching her eyes close, he began to slowly caress her neck as she leaned back against him – spent.

"We've passed the point of no return…"

The orchestra began to complete the song as the lights began to dim and the curtains close. He continued to hold her close, while he still had her in his "trance". He didn't care if this part belonged to Christine. He needed to let her know how he felt – even if he wasn't sure himself.

* * *

She stood there, still leaning against him. She heard the curtains close and the orchestra stop but still heard music in her head. It filled her – consumed her. It surrounded her and made her feel alive. Then she heard him. He began to sing to her… 

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime…Lead me, save me from my solitude…Say you want me with you here beside you…"

Her eyes slowly began to open and the part of her soul that was missing was found. Those words had touched her more then he could have possibly imagined. She turned to him…

* * *

She looked at him with those angelic eyes. At this moment, he didn't care if she ripped off the mask. No one could see him or hear him except her. It was their moment. 

"Anywhere you go, let me go too!"

"Phantom, please…you need to go."

Angelina continued to look at him, not even hearing the voice of Rene below. Erik slowly put a hand to her face and looked at her.

"Passion is within you. Embrace it."

He slowly began to back away from her and into the shadows.

"I'll be watching."

He disappeared from her sight and she became lost without his touch.


	16. Unmasked Feelings

**A/N: Sorry about the update being so late. I've been occupied with school and other things. I hope that you guys are enjoying the story so far. And without further ado, here is the next chapter.**

**Chapter 15 – Unmasked Feelings**

Don Juan was a complete success. Angelina counted thirteen standing ovations. She had never seen so many roses thrown onto a stage her entire life. The curtains opened and closed and the roar of applause echoed throughout the opera house.

The lights had blinded her and she could not see her parents in Box Five. She hoped against hope that her parents were proud of her. The thought of not making it had crossed her mind several times throughout the performance. But she remembered back to 'Point of No Return' and regained her courage.

Erik had been there and in top form. Angelina had never truly heard him sing before and it was absolutely breathtaking. His voice could not be denied. It wouldn't.

All of the excitement around her was making her dizzy. Gabriella had made sure to stay beside her after all of the patrons had wanted to speak with her. Angelina was overwhelmed, to say the least. Everything was all so new. She had heard several people claim she was the newest star in Paris. It made her smile every time she thought about it.

An arm linked with hers and she turned to see a masked figure standing beside her. She lost all hope of it being Erik once she heard the voice.

"You were brilliant, Angelina. All of Paris is abuzz."

She smiled at Rene as he stepped along side of her. He continued holding her arm. She leaned against him for support, her legs tired and worn.

"And as they should be. Both you and Rene were unbelievably passionate in 'The Point of No Return'."

Angelina looked at Gabriella as Gabriella smiled at her. Before she could speak, another voice was quickly heard behind her.

"Christine, please, slow down!"

"Where is she?"

"We will find her."

"Mother?"

Angelina turned to see Christine pushing through the crowd and toward her. Raoul was not far behind her and Alexander trying to keep up.

"He's gotten to her! Raoul, our daughter…"

Christine quickly stopped her statement as she came upon Angelina and the masked figure. Quickly separating the two, Christine stood in front of the figure with Angelina behind her.

"Mother, what are you doing!"

"I thought I was rid of you. You let me go. You let me and Raoul go."

"Christine, don't!"

"You will not come near my child."

Without warning, and before anyone could stop her, she ripped the mask off of Rene's face. Christine gasped in horror as Raoul hung his head.

"Mother!"

"Madam!"

Christine slowly dropped the mask and began backing away from him. She began shaking her head 'no'. "No, it wasn't you on that stage. It wasn't."

"I assure you, Madam de Chagny, it was."

"I heard his voice. I heard it!"

Raoul moves to her side and embraces her. He notices the look of horror on Angelina's face. His head turned to Alexander standing behind him. "Stay with Angelina while I take your mother outside."

"Of course."

Christine was lost in her own mind. She could hear his voice in her head. _I know I wasn't imagining it. I heard him. He was on stage with Angelina._ "Raoul, you cannot leave her. He's here. I heard him."

"It'll be alright, my love. Let's go outside and get some fresh air."

Alexander and Angelina watched as their father escorted their mother out of the corridors of the opera house.

"What was she talking about?" Gabriella asked.

Alexander watched as Angelina shook with fear and anger. Their mother had embarrassed her without any explanation or reason. He was sure she had meant well but there was a mystery lying behind what had just happened. Taking her hand, he looked down upon her.

"Maybe you should go lie down."

She could not answer. She was mortified and shocked beyond anything that had ever been done. _Has she gone mad? Is there something really wrong with my mother?_

"She needs to lie down, Alexander. Take her and I will tell everyone that she is ill."

Rene watched as Alexander and Gabriella both escorted Angelina away from the madness. _How could she have known it wasn't me on stage? There is no one who knows about the Phantom._ His master had told him that 'Point of No Return' was the only song that he wanted to perform. He now understood why. The passion and sensuality was unparalleled. Rene was amazed at the caliber voice his master had. Every note, every word was filled with passion.

He watched as Angelina had received it well. She complimented his master in both style and passion. Angelina was not like that with him on stage. She had done what she could, but what was seen on stage tonight was not what was done in rehearsals. Vibrant and strong, the audience had seen a side of Angelina that no one had seen before.

His master would be pleased with the results. Angelina had become a star and a diva. With just one night, her entire status had changed. Rene now figured that he would be in Paris longer then planned. The managers had loved him as well. And since he had performed so well along side of Angelina, they had no reason to send him away. He was guaranteed a job and a paycheck – with a bonus on the side for 'services rendered'.

The interaction between him and Madam de Chagny had disturbed him. His master had assured him there would be no backlash. It had seemed as though Madam de Chagny knew what had taken place. He recalled an event, several years earlier, at the Opera Populaire. He had only heard rumors of an opera and the demise of one of the greatest opera stars that could have been.

_Could it be her? Could she be the diva that had Paris talking for weeks?_ He had no time to worry about it. That was no his domain. He was a singer. Rene DuBois would be in the spotlight once again. This was only the beginning.

* * *

Angelina stood in the dark of the park, just outside of the opera house. She needed to be alone and in the dark. All of her doubts and fears had come to a head. Her mother had gone completely insane.

Alexander had returned to her in a few moments time and had told her that their father was going to take her to the hotel to rest. The assurance from her brother that everything would be alright had fallen on deaf ears. Not only did she worry about her mother's insanity, she now worried about her own.

_What was she talking about? Did she know it was Erik? How could she?_ There were too many questions with no answers. And the questions kept forming. She could not find a solid answer to give herself some peace.

Everything had been going so smoothly. The performance was wonderful. The after-party was just beginning, with her in the spotlight. Rene and Gabriella were enjoying themselves and her in their company. The event had happened out of the blue. No one had expected it. Not even her poor father. She had noticed the look on her father's face – shame, bewilderment, and fear. Angelina knew how much he loved her mother. There was no peace for him. He had only possessed love for her mother and it continued through the madness that sometimes consumed her.

It had felt like hours since she had left the opera house. The air had grown cold and bitter. The wind from the north was beginning to pick up. A storm was approaching. She had forgotten to bring her cloak in a rush just to be rid of everything surrounding her. Shivers racked her body and her teeth were chattering.

A cloak covered her shoulders, returning the warmth to her body. Her teeth began to chatter less and less as she wrapped the cloak tighter around her.

"You should not be wandering around Paris alone at night."

She slowly looked behind her and saw Jonathan standing there, still dressed in his fine tailored suit. He looked worriedly at her, noticing the tear stained cheeks.

"Alexander said you were not in your room."

"I needed air."

"You're lucky if you don't catch death of cold. If you were out here any longer, you might have froze to death."

He stepped along side of her and brushed her cheek. She looked deep into his chocolate brown eyes. Angelina remembered his touch from so long ago. She thought it would have been the only thing to make her happy. But somehow, when he touched her now, it was different. It did not have the effect it once had on her.

"You were magnificent tonight."

"Thank you."

"I wanted to speak with you before I left for London for a few weeks."

"What about?"

"Us."

She looked at him, bewildered. Was there an 'us'? Would there ever be? The wind blew and Angelina felt a presence but could not place it. _Are we alone or is there someone watching?_

_

* * *

_

The darkness was Erik's second home. It was a security blanket and something to keep him safe when he needed to be. Tonight, it would be his shield. It hid him as he hid behind a tree.

He had followed her out of the opera house. Concerned, he watched her pace the park, unsure of herself. Rene had not gotten to him before he needed to leave. There was a reason for Angelina's tears and he did not know it. His heart ached as he watched her cry – alone.

Just as he was about to step into the light, he watched Jonathan gently place a cloak on Angelina's shoulders. He stopped in mid-step and watched, and listened, as the two interacted and spoke.

"I wanted to speak with you before I left for London for a few weeks."

Good, he would be rid of the boy for a few weeks. No sort of interaction between the boy and Angelina would hold Erik in higher regards with her.

"What about?"

"Us."

Erik's blood ran cold. He could not tell Angelina's reaction in the darkness. He could only hear her words.

* * *

"Us? Is there an 'us'?"

"There could be. We were once an 'us'. We could be again."

"This is all happening so fast."

Jonathan took her hand in his and watched as Angelina's face expressions changed from bewildered to blank. He had willed up enough courage to do this, by God, he would.

"I want to marry you, Anna."

Angelina's eyes slowly rose from the ground to looking at Jonathan in complete and utter shock. She shook her head, out of instinct.

"You don't want to marry me."

"I've wanted to marry you since the first time we threw snowballs at one another. Since you and I used to run through the woods and swim in the lake. You and I were destined to be together."

Her mouth had become dry and seemed to be full of cotton. No words would come out. Her heart continued like a drum in her chest. Her head was spinning out of control. _This is too much in one night._

"I want you in my life, Anna. I need you in it. I love you."

Those three words that only one man could have uttered to her. This was not the man. She had dreamed of someone tall, dark, and handsome. His hand touched her cheek, forcing her to look at him.

"Tell me you love me."

"I…"

* * *

Erik stood there, his heart stopping. Would she say it? Would she tell him that she loved him? Would he be heartbroken once again?

He could not bare it. Angelina was his one last hope at happiness, even if it was student/teacher. He enjoyed her company and they were well matched.

Baring it no longer, Erik turned and began to walk away.

"I cannot."

He stopped and quickly looked back.

* * *

It was Jonathan's turn to have a look of surprise on his face. His jaw dropped as he looked at Angelina. Her face was so innocent and yet everything he wanted was in it.

"I cannot tell you that I love you."

"Why not?"

"I have no reason. But, Jonathan, please do not be angry."

"I'm not angry. I'm shocked. You loved me."

"I did. We were children then, Jonathan. Now I am apart of the world and I am learning so much more then just running through the woods and swimming in a lake. I am finally free of the confines of my own self. Please, Jonathan, do not take me back."

He looked upon her. Jonathan knew that she had been waiting her entire life to be a dancer and to come to Paris. But he never expected her to fall out of love with him.

"Promise me you'll consider my proposal."

"Jonathan…"

"Promise me."

She looked at him as his eyes begged. She sighed and nodded her head.

"If you wish me to. I promise to consider your proposal."

Taking a ring out of his pocket, he gently places it in her hand, closing her fingers about it.

"This is a mere token of my affections. Take it with you and it will keep you safe."

"Jonathan, I must go."

"Go."

They looked at each other for another moment before she began into the opera house. Without knowing it, Angelina had two men that loved her watch her walk away from them. Jonathan, with love and a promise in his heart. Erik, with love and hope in his.


	17. The First Stage is Denial

**A/N: Sorry about the delay in updates. I have way too many stories going on right now with many more I'm about to write. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Read and Review. I'd love to hear what you think! Thanks!**

**Chapter 16 – The First Stage is Denial**

It hardly seemed like a week after Don Juan. The days were all a blur to Angelina. Every day grew more and more disappointing. The news of her mother had traveled all around Paris. It was like the plague. Her father kept telling her that her mother was fine and that everything would work itself out. Somewhere in her heart, she wished he was right.

It escalated after that. The entire opera house caught wind of Jonathan proposing to her. One thing had led to another and everyone now thought they were engaged to be married. She tried to deny it all but she was not heard. Instead of wearing the ring like she was going to, she found a small box and put it on top of her dresser. It was hot to touch. She feared it. It felt as though a noose was around her neck – depriving her of air.

The news of Brigitte getting the lead in the new opera also drifted about the opera house. Angelina was devastated at the news. She had thought since her performance in Don Juan was such a success, she would have at least had a chance at the lead. But Madam Giry had told her the managers had wanted Brigitte back in the lead. She could put up no contest. She took a step to the side and let Brigitte back in her rightful spot.

Alexander told her, later on that week, that he would be returning home with their parents. She had begged him to stay but was told that it was for the better. He would return to Paris in a few weeks time, along with Jonathan. She recalled the conversation…

"Why must everything be with Jonathan?"

"He's in love with you, Angelina. Why can't you see that?"

"I can see that. But I do not know if I love him."

"Love is second to being alone. You do not want to be alone in life, Angelina. You are much too beautiful and caring for that."

He had left with their parents. Jonathan left soon after that. She was once again alone. _This is how you wanted it, wasn't it? To be left alone? You got your wish._ The entire week was chaos and all her body wanted to do was rest. But her thoughts kept her mind busy and her body going. There would be no rest for the weary.

Angelina's thoughts drifted to Erik. There had not been a rose or a note after her performance. She would have at least thought there would have been some indication on how her performance was. He was there for the first song but had he watched the entire opera?

She looked at the mirror as she sat on the bed. Sighing, she rose from the bed and pushed back the mirror. The candles were lit once again and showed her the way to the lair.

The journey was long and tedious. Angelina did not remember the winding staircase being so long. Maybe it was because the first time she was unconscious when she went down them. The stairs could have led her to the depths of hell and she would have been none the wiser.

When she finally reached the platform, she climbed into the boat and pushed herself along the water path to Erik's lair.

Gently climbing off of the boat, the heat from the candles surrounding her, made her feel at home. She looked around her and did not see Erik anywhere.

"Erik?"

She continued the path up to the organ, climbing the stairs slowly and keeping an eye out for him.

"Erik!"

His named echoed throughout the cavern. There was still no reply. She feared that she might have done something wrong. She could recall no incidents in which she could have angered him. Although, if her performance was inadequate that would anger him.

The keys were ivory and worn, but beautiful none the less. She ran her fingers across the keys, savoring and remembering the texture of them. Smiling, she sat down in front of the organ. She remembered the first time she played one.

The monastery was just down the road from the de Chagny household. Angelina, just five, would sneak out of the house and run down to speak with the monks who had resided there. It was there that she would first learn about music. She would touch and study the organ. It took her several years, but she had taught herself how to play. Her mother would never allow it in the house. She thanked God for the monks' vow of silence. They would not speak of her 'sin' to her mother.

Over the years, she had perfected her playing. She had even written a few songs but nothing of the caliber of Erik's writing. Recalling one, her fingers began to dance over the keys – fluid and graceful.

* * *

Erik sat in his private room. Only a curtain separated the room from the main part of the cavern. Although his bedroom had contained most of his things, this room was where his most prized possessions were stored. There were several drawings of Angelina in different costumes.

The costumes became reality as Erik had constructed a small stage containing several models of the latest operas. To the right of his small stage was a miniature version of it. He sat in front of it, looking at it – studying it. He noted Brigitte's head on the lead part of Faust. The managers had seen to it that Brigitte was brought back to diva status. Even though they knew of the news of Angelina traveling throughout Paris, Brigitte had somehow seen to it that she was brought back. _I will have to remedy that._

It was moments before he heard the gentle playing of his organ. Quickly rising to his feet and pulling back the curtain, he saw Angelina sitting there – playing. He stood there in disbelief and noticed the boat docked. Closing the curtain behind him, he began up the stairs and to the angel sitting at his organ.

* * *

Angelina did not hear him climb the stairs. Her mind was focused on the piece. There were no errors and piece had flowed smoothly. She did not remember it doing that. It was a dark piece as time went on. The intensity changed as it continued. The notes grew deeper and darker.

No one knew that this was how her soul screamed to her every night. It was her pain and torment. Her parents did not know any of it. Music had set her free. The piece she wrote had claimed her long ago. She did not have words, only notes. Even the notes were covered in tears. The first time she had played it, she could not make it through the first verse.

As soon as his hand had touched her bare skin on her back, her eyes immediately closed. Her fingers continued over the keys, needing no sight to know where they needed to be. She could feel him sit down next to her and felt his piercing stare. His hand guided itself from her back down her arm and to her hand. He positioned it over hers, careful not to disturb her playing.

* * *

Erik watched the intensity in her playing and knew the pain she was going through by just the notes alone. He had felt that way many a time but he could never express it through his music unless he had a reason. Don Juan was a prime example. It was a product of Christine and his passion for her.

Now he had a new opera with a new muse. Angelina was the perfect lead for it. He would reveal it to the world in due time. There were finishing touches and one last song needed for it. The melody to the song Angelina played seemed to fit perfectly into the opera. It was just the song he needed to complete it.

Noting how tired her fingers were, he slowly stopped her from playing. She seemed out of breath and still as melancholy as when she arrived. Her eyes slowly opened and looked at Erik.

"I needed you."

Those three words tore his heart in two. He had never heard anyone mutter those words to him. He never expected anyone to.

"My week has been nothing but nightmares. I needed you."

She turned to him and rested her head on his chest. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and embraced her as she sobbed. Erik lifted her head and looked at her tear-filled eyes.

"Tell me what has happened."

* * *

It had taken Angelina longer then anticipated to explain the things that had progressed over the week. She felt as thought she was complaining. But as she looked up to see if she had bored Erik yet, his eyes were focused on her with no signs of bring bored or losing touch with reality. He had asked very few questions but most of them were asked about her mother. She had pondered why but pushed it off as she continued on with her story.

After completely the weekly events, she finally had gathered enough courage to ask the question she had been wanting to.

"Why did you not play Don Juan throughout the entire opera?"

Was he laughing? Was he actually laughing at her? The laughter echoed throughout the cavern. She looked at him, bewildered.

"I was not there. I was in a private room listening to your performance."

"No, that's not possible. You were there. I felt you, heard you…"

"I'm afraid, my dear Angelina, that you imagined my presence."

* * *

Erik watched her expressions change. Telling her that he was not on stage with her had been his plan. He wanted her to believe that she could do it on her own without his help. The passion he had felt between them had caused him to rethink his plan. His initial thought was to tell her it was him. His entire thought process changed after the exchange between them.

Her voice had set his soul on fire. Their rehearsals together had not shown him everything she had been capable of. 'Point of No Return' had set something free within her. He was there to bask in the glory of his student becoming something he never expected: a true equal.

He knew that she had figured out it was him toward the end. There would be no way to take back everything he had planned until he recalled something he had told her only days before. _My dearest Angelina, all you need is to think of me. Do not imagine Monsieur DuBois standing in front of you – imagine me._ His plan could be put to use. She would never know it was him singing along side her. It was better this way – or so he told himself.

* * *

Angelina could not even think about imaging what had happened on stage. She knew it was him with her and not Rene. The passion, the sensuality – it was all him. And the voice could not be mistaken. Don Juan was played by him and he was now denying it. _Was he intently trying to drive her insane?_

She slowly rose to her feet and watched him keep his gaze upon her. "You are lying."

"I would never lie to you, Angelina."

"I know it was you. I felt your touch as I did that night we rehearsed. Your voice echoed throughout the opera house."

"I heard your performance. I did not see it. I wish I had now."

She spun toward him and fell to her knees in front of him. Her eyes pleaded, sending shivers down his spine. "Tell me it was you. Please, tell me it was you."

He smiled upon her and put his hand to her face. Denial had to be apart of this plan. In order to save her, he needed to hurt her. _She must never know it was me._

"You did as you were taught. You saw me instead of Rene. I told you to see me when you felt doubtful of your abilities. Do you remember me telling you that?"

She vaguely remembered that night. His touch had her mind reeling from everything around her. She had recalled something he said to her but it was jumbled and incoherent.

"You saw me instead of Rene…"

"But your voice…"

"Imagined, Angelina. Nothing more or less. You wanted me with you and I was, in your mind. There is nothing wrong with that."

The performance had improved because she had thought he was there with her. She laid everything out and exposed her inner self. A new woman and a new singer, Angelina had become stronger because of that performance and thinking Erik had been the one singing with her. Now she became insecure once again. _I don't want to be like that with anyone else. If it truly was Rene, what does he think of me now?_

Her week ended with a bang. She was devastated once again. Maybe the thoughts of him finding something in her had been wrong. She was wrong many times before, maybe she was once again.

"So it was not you on the stage with me?"

"I am afraid not. Although I am flattered that you would think I was."

She nodded her head as she slowly rose from her knees. Erik stood along side her and watched her expressions, from feeling to nothing in a moment's notice. He feared he had done wrong but if she had found out it was him, it would repulse her and drive her away.

She prayed to God that he was lying. It was his hands that she wanted on her body. It was his voice that she wanted in her head. It was his touch…If she said anything to him, it would drive him away.

Silence hung in the air like a thick fog. Both had wanted to touch the other but were afraid to. Finally, Erik had mustered the courage to speak.

"I must get you back. Your rehearsal for Faust is early in the morning. You must get your rest."

"Yes."

He had wanted her to say more but nothing came out. Not only was it silence hanging in the air, it was disappointment and fear. Neither of them wanted to know what they were feeling. Were they denying themselves the pleasure of being happy? Could they truly ever be happy if the other knew of the secrets that they held inside of their hearts?

Erik took her hand and led her to the boat. He gently sat her down and stepped in behind her. Angelina's back was rigid and tight. Erik could tell how much he had hurt her. But there was no choice. There were feelings inside of him that he was unsure of. He had not felt like this with Christine. The feelings were different and more intense. There was a connection with Angelina; he just wasn't sure what it was. Until he found out what, he was going to maintain his distance and slowly figure out what it is that was haunting him. Until then, he would lie to Angelina only to keep her safe. She could not know the truth. It's what damned him but it would not condemn him.


	18. The Send Off

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. As always, read and review. I would love to hear what you guys think.**

**Chapter 17 – The Send Off**

The production of Faust had begun with no time spared. Madam Giry had made sure that all of her dancers were well prepared ahead of time to go through the rigorous demands that this opera had. The schedule was demanding and had them up early in the morning and stayed until everyone else had left.

Angelina's legs were aching but the pain in her legs was better then the pain in her heart. Ever since she left Erik's lair, a sense of dread had washed over her. Other matters had been cleared up over the past few days. A letter from Alexander assured her that he and her parents were fine. Her mother was back to normal and does not want to talk about the events that transpired. She sent her apologizes and her love and Angelina finally felt better about the entire event.

Jonathan had also written her and about his undying loyalty and love. At this juncture in her life, Angelina was ready to write him back and tell him that she would accept his proposal. As much as her mind screamed for her to do that, her heart had stopped her. A void still remained and answering 'yes' to Jonathan's proposal would not fill it. Her heart knew that as much as she wanted to deny it.

There were feelings lying dormant. She had tried to push them aside as much as she could but the harder she tried the more they grew. Angelina would dance until her legs could not support her any longer if she could be rid of the thoughts in her head. They consumed her. He consumed her.

_No! I won't think about it. Not any more._

She continued to dance as the orchestra began to get ready for the early morning rehearsals. Angelina was up before most of the dancers. Every morning she would walk onto the stage, remembering the spotlight she was in for 'Don Juan Triumphant'. Another hole was formed in her soul. She had wanted so badly to be apart of 'Faust' - other then a dancer. But Arnaud had told Madam Giry that he wanted Brigitte in the role. And she had seen to it that she reminded Angelina every day who the 'star' was.

Dancers and other cast members began to come out of their sleep and took their places on stage. Angelina moved off to the side as Gabriella rushed over to her.

"Angelina, Brigitte is on a rampage."

"Why?"

"Apparently one of the financiers has asked for you to be put into the lead of 'Faust'."

Shock rolled over Angelina's face. Brigitte would be furious. She could not deal with Brigitte today. Too much consumed her mind and one of Brigitte's temper tantrums would not help the situation.

"There must be some mistake."

"I heard Madam Giry and Arnaud speaking this morning as I was heading to the stage. Brigitte was off to the side speaking in some foreign language to Rene."

"Oh no."

"She's furious with you. She thinks that you hold some sort of influence over them. Or your parents are the silent financiers."

"I have no idea what is going on. She cannot blame me."

"I want the little twit away from my opera!"

Both Angelina and Gabriella look over and watch Brigitte walk from backstage, followed closely by her entourage, Arnaud, and Meg. Angelina could tell she was furious. Brigitte's hair usually grew darker as her mood did. She was speaking in Italian which was not a good sign. Although Brigitte had lived her life in Paris, she had visited Italy for many years. Italian was her second tongue and it was used quite frequently.

"I want no excuses. She is to be gone."

Brigitte locked eyes with Angelina. Anger grew in her eyes as she pointed at Angelina.

"Gone! I want her gone! Whatever financier is supporting this little…I do not even have the words for what I feel for her any longer. If they have a problem with me being in the female lead for 'Faust', tell them to come find me."

"Please, Brigitte, she is the lead dancer." Arnaud was trying to plead. He knew there was no convincing Brigitte once her mind was made up. "She is one of the best dancers Paris has seen in years."

"She is also now one of Paris's brightest singers. I have heard the rumors. I will not stand idly by while some child takes over my rightful spot."

Meg glanced over at Angelina and saw so many emotions cross her face. Meg did not think she knew whether to cry or scream at Brigitte. Arnaud had tried all morning to calm Brigitte's fears but she would not hear it. Brigitte just seemed to grow more furious at the sight of Angelina.

"I will take center stage once again without the threat of it being taken away. I want her off of this production. I will not have her stand behind me."

Angelina watched as sadness grew in Meg's face. The battle was lost and all of the work she was willing to put into her dance would now cease. Her life was over. Dancing was the only thing she had left and now it was being taken away from her by an overzealous diva.

"I will not repeat myself! If you want 'Faust' to continue, you will be rid of her. Now!"

Before Arnaud could say anything to Angelina, she began to walk off. She paused near Brigitte and looked at her.

"There will be a time, Brigitte, when you will come to appreciate the people around you. I saved your life once; do not expect me to again."

"I never asked you to save me, Angelina. If you want to save someone, I suggest saving yourself. If I have my way, you will never work in Paris again."

There were no other words that needed to be said. Angelina slowly walked off the stage and into the looming darkness of the opera house.

* * *

Meg sat down at her desk and continued to write notes of that day's progress. Her mind still could not get over the events that transpired earlier in the day. Brigitte had seen to it that she would be the one to destroy Angelina and her dreams. Never had she seen a girl so shattered and so broken. She knew that Angelina would never be the same.

There had to be a way that she could bring Angelina back into the opera. Arnaud had tried everything. Her husband was loyal to the de Chagny's – especially Angelina. She watched as he consoled the child for awhile before Angelina had sent him away. Meg was afraid to write Christine. She knew that if she told Christine what had happened that she would tell Angelina to return home. Angelina would be more devastated then not being in 'Faust'.

She blew out the candle upon her desk and began to get ready for bed. Never noticing it before, there was a note upon her bed. Her eyes widen once she noticed the crest on the back.

_He was here. He was in my room._

After quickly dressing, she picked up the note and sat on the bed. Breaking the seal, she pulled out the note and began reading.

_Madam Giry – _

_I continue to find out what goes on in my opera house. I am disappointed that you did not do more for Angelina than what you did. Brigitte has seen to it that she has become more then just a singer. Has she become part owner as well?_

_However, since Angelina will not be participating in 'Faust', something I must remedy myself, I will see to it that there is another pageant that our dear Brigitte cannot be apart of. _

_You have two weeks, Madam Giry, to put together a production for your dancers. Angelina will be the lead. The music is of your choice but it should be well suited of your dancers._

_I expect nothing less then perfection. I am sure that you will come up with something. Your husband will surely deny you any sort of production but you must convince him otherwise. _

_Angelina must maintain her spotlight. Brigitte will not be in Paris for much longer. My mangers must see true potential when there is some. Do not fail me, Madam Giry. Two weeks is all you have._

_O.G._

She put the letter down and began breathing heavily. _Two weeks? Has he gone mad? It takes more then two weeks to learn a routine, never mind an entire production._ Arnaud would never allow another production right before Faust. How would she convince him to do such a thing?

He had put her in quite a predicament. The task was next to impossible. He was becoming obsessed with Angelina. She knew she should not even consider doing this task that he asked of her but he was right. Angelina needed to be in the spotlight. Her performance during Don Juan was magnificent. If she did not remain there, everything Angelina had worked for would disappear.

Sighing, she rose and walked back over to her desk and relit her candle. Writing down every score she could think of, she began to write her dancers' new production.


	19. The Meaning of Darkness

**A/N: Thanks again for all the great comments. This one is kind of short but holds a lot of meaning behind it. I would love to hear your comments and reviews as always. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 18 – The Meaning of Darkness**

The lair was becoming dark and cold. The candles were extinguishing themselves one-by-one. Erik sat shrouded in darkness. It consumed him as it always did. He could contain his feelings no longer and the darkness helped keep them at bay.

His growing 'infatuation' with Angelina was growing in intensity. Every day it seemed to become worse and worse. It suffocated him and he refused to act on any of his emotions. Several times Angelina had asked him what was wrong but he said it was nothing and continued on with the lesson.

The feelings for Christine were still there but were being overpowered by the feelings he had for her daughter. He had done everything he could to push aside the feelings but he could not. To deny them would destroy him. To put them into the light would kill him. It was a no-win situation.

He could still how soft her skin was he was with her on stage. Her voice consumed him. Her gaze upon him had made his blood stop. _What is she doing to me!_

Erik stood, knocking down a candle bra near him. He looked around the room and noticed how much sheet music was all over the floor. It had been constant. Don Juan had not gotten to him as much as this new opera had. It was even more passionate and more sensual then Don Juan.

Closing his eyes, he smiled as he imagined Angelina in the costume in envisioned for her. Aminta paled in comparison to his newest character. She was beautiful and talented and doomed from the start. Only one man could save her. The only question that remained was which man.

The opera would be a great performance with Angelina in the lead. Erik would see no other in the spotlight of his opera. But would he come out of hiding to play one of the leads along side her? That was the whole point to writing the opera. He wanted to be along side her as she played the part. He wanted to be the one who sang in her ear and held her close.

He knocked over another candle bra, sending crashing to the ground. _Damn these thoughts! Damn them!_ He racked his hands through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror.

The mirror – the one thing in his life that he feared. His body was not something he minded. He was well built and quite tall. His physique he actually admired about himself. Trying to keep himself in shape, he did various things while practicing or writing his music.

It was everything above his shoulders that he dreaded. His eyes were the windows to his soul. They were the only thing on his face that he didn't hate. They were iridescent at times or blue to match the morning sky. His teeth were perfect and his smile – when he did smile – could shine brighter then the night skies.

His face was what turned everyone away. It horrified them. His mask was just that – a mask. He feared it himself. It disgusted him that he could be as horribly as disfigured as he was. The black wig he wore hid the scars that rested upon his head and the little hair he had. The white mask covered his disfiguration upon his face.

Slowly taking it off, he looked at himself in the mirror. He forced himself to truly look at himself. _How could Angelina ever fall in love with a monster like me?_ Pain flooded his heart. Christine had seen him without his mask and it had repulsed her. Why would her child be any different?

Erik recalled the scene in the park right after Don Juan. Jonathan's proposal came as a complete surprise to both Erik and Angelina. She had not accepted but promised to consider it. He knew of the reputation of Jonathan de Wynter. Jonathan was an upstanding member of society and was rumored to be even more popular then his father.

However, Angelina did not seem impressed by it all. From the information Rene had gathered, Jonathan was a friend – to both Alexander and Angelina. They had loved each other once, when they were children. It seemed to Erik that Angelina had grown out of the love but Jonathan had not.

Could she ever love him as she once did Jonathan? Doubts filled Erik's mind has he continued to think of his face and his 'handicap'.

When he looked into the mirror he saw a reflection standing behind him.

"Angelina…"

He slowly turned and saw her standing near the organ. Erik quickly turned his face, putting it into the darkness that surrounded him.

"Why are you here? You should not be here."

"I'm always with you, Erik. I am in your soul."

She slowly began down the stairs in a flowing white gown. The curls upon her head bounced as she walked down to where he was standing. She looked upon him.

"You shun yourself."

"I am hideous. Do not look upon me."

"You are beautiful."

His head rose and his eyes caught hers. A smile spread across her face as she stepped closer to him.

"You are my angel."

"Oh how I wish I can believe that, Angelina. But you are merely a delusion from my mind sent to keep my sanity in check."

"Why must you fear everything?"

"I fear nothing."

"You fear what life could be. You fear happiness."

He knew she spoke the truth. Denying the feelings he had, he condemned himself. He feared of being happy but what he feared more was rejection. Erik knew that this was not how Angelina would look upon him. As he thought about her reaction, his eyes began to show hatred and fury.

"I fear nothing!"

His hands flew out and shoved her to the ground. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. Erik began to laugh and pointed to everything around him.

"Can you honestly tell me that you would live here with me in this cave! You would look upon this face without horror and pity!"

"Erik…"

"No! I am tired of rejection and pain. I have lived with it my entire life!"

He bent down to her and grabbed her hand. Forcing it upon his marred face, she looked at him with horror.

"This! This is my life! I am the Devil's Child! Look and stare and laugh."

"You say these things because you fear to be with someone. You say these things because you truly do not know me."

"Oh I know you. You are Christine de Chagny's daughter. And you will do the same thing she did to me – you will leave me for your childhood sweetheart."

He rose, wrapping his robe around him. Looking in the mirror once again, he saw Angelina slowly rise behind him.

"You do not know Angelina, Erik. You would deny the love of your life because of the hatred that lies within your heart."

Erik watched as her figure began to fade as she begun to walk toward him.

"Angelina is not Christine. She does not know of your past and you do not know hers. You know it is time to find out more about her. You are her teacher – her angel. Do not deny her that because of your own selfishness."

The figure faded but he continued to hear the voice.

"The love you feel for her is real. It is vibrant and passionate and sensual. You need to embrace it and to let go of all of the fears in your past. You do not know if she will shun you as Christine once did. Remember that she is not Christine. She is your muse. Angelina is the one that turns the darkness you live in into light."

Her voice faded as the rest of the candles seemed to extinguish themselves. A lone candle remained lit, lighting Erik's figure in the mirror. His marred face hidden in the darkness and the white mask in his hand illuminated by the candle light seemed to be the symbols of how the war within his soul was.

The mask dropped from his hand and shattered. A single tear ran down the cheek and glimmered from the light that sat upon the candle. His eyes slowly began to look at himself for the last time.

"I must change. I must be the man Angelina wants in her life. I can fear the light no longer. I must not fear love and happiness. I am a teacher and a student. I will learn all that I can and I know exactly who to turn to."


	20. An Old Friend

**A/N: This one is a little longer. I debated splitting it but decided to keep it intact. As always, I'd love to hear the feedback. I'm glad you guys are enjoying it so far. I'm stuck on Chapter 29, so I'm waiting for some inspiration to come to me. I'm hoping it comes back once the DVD comes out. crosses fingers**

**Chapter 19 – An Old Friend**

The sun had just set over the countryside. On the outskirts of Paris, when night had drawn no one even thought of traveling there. The outskirts contained hoodlums and thieves. If anyone of 'proper' blood dared travel there, they were sure to return to Paris with none of the belongings they had traveled with.

Very few houses lied on the outskirts of Paris. If one wanted to be alone, it was the perfect place to be. A wooded area stretched for miles around, barely untouched by architects and the like. It was an area left naked and undiscovered. Paris was the life and no one wanted to be away from the excitement.

Couples and many single men had made their living outside of Paris. Many traveled there every morning to make their living and brought themselves home again to stay away from the high life of Paris. Small stone cottages occupied the wooded area. Most had smoke rising from chimneys to keep out the cool night air.

A cottage, the farthest from Paris, sat nestled in the middle of the woods. Very little smoke rose from the chimney and weeds had begun to grow along the walls of the cottage. The windows were dirty and had not seemed to be cleaned in ages. Cracked and aged, the door sat on broken hinges but continued to do its job and kept everything outside there and everything inside contained in the small cottage.

Inside, candles burned everywhere. There were no separate rooms. A stove and fireplace was off in the far corner of the cottage while a bed and lone chair were opposite them. The bed was neatly made with a handmade quilt of many colors on top. On the wall near the bed were several shelves all containing pictures of various people. One was of a young girl dressed in a white dress and a blue cape hung over her shoulders. The others were of various times and places.

A fire was dwindling in the middle of the fireplace, the owner not keeping it up. The chair the figure sat in – in the dark – was as far away from the fireplace as they could be. The figure looked around the room, as if anticipating someone was coming.

The door opened and through the darkness, the figure smiled.

"I was wondering when you would come."

Erik stood in the doorway and looked toward the darkest corner of the room. The candles illuminated his mask and his face. It was solemn and in thought. _Can she see how much pain I am in?_ He closed the door behind him and stood near the doorway. Afraid of what could happen, he stood near the exit to make sure he could run if necessary. He knew that she was as far away from civilization as she could get. No one could come to her if the need arose.

"It took longer then anticipated."

"I have been occupied."

"So I have heard."

He heard the rustle of her gathering her skirts and standing up. The figure stood and moved into the light. Erik could not remember her being that old and that worn. She still continued to radiate beauty as she did when he had first met her. They were long time friends and she did everything he had asked of her. He did not want to ask her for another favor but he had no choice.

"You are doing the same thing to my daughter as you did to me, Erik."

_The_ Madam Giry turned to Erik and looked upon his face. _He has not changed in seventeen years. His face…_

"A new star has come to Paris. And you occupy my daughter's mind with your obsession."

"This is different."

"How? Angelina de Chagny is the daughter of the woman you love. Do not presume to tell me that this is different."

"Angelina is very much like Christine."

"As I have gathered from what Meg has told me."

"Her voice is unparalleled. It is unmatched by anyone in Paris."

"Brigitte seems to think otherwise."

"That untalented whale! How that woman could grace a stage is beyond my understanding."

Madam Giry laughed to herself and watched as Erik's face grew angry at the mention of her name. She had known Brigitte when she was still a background singer in some of the operas that she choreographed. Brigitte had a commanding presence and would not be denied when she was on stage. Many divas before her were the same way. The only one she had ever known not to be was Christine.

"Have you finally let go of Christine?"

"No."

He still loved her. Knowing what happened and how much Christine gave him and then took away, she could not believe that Christine still held a place in her heart. Erik had refused to tell him what happened that night. Erik had sought her out and told her that he was ok and he was going to find somewhere to go until Paris was once again safe. Five years and Erik had finally returned. Ten years had gone by until once again the rumors of the "opera ghost" had begun.

Meg had come to her, frightened that he had returned. Christine had seen to it that she told everything to Meg. Meg had then told her of the fears Christine had and that her daughter was looking to come to Paris. Madam Giry had kept track of everything going on within the city limits. It was Erik and his heart that she could not keep track of.

She had feared that once he found out Christine's daughter was coming to Paris that Angelina would become his next obsession. She feared the heartache that Erik would once again go through. His heart would not take another blow as it did with Christine. Whatever had happened after 'Don Juan' would not happen to Erik again. She vowed that to herself and to God. The disfigured boy she saved from a carnival would not be damned to spend eternity in solitude and pain. He deserved so much better.

"Erik, this cannot happen again."

"It is different."

"You believe it is and it is not. Angelina is no different then her mother."

"I told myself that at first. But she is different."

"Are you so sure of that, Erik? Can you truly say to yourself that you are not seeing Christine in Angelina?"

Erik leaned against the doorframe. He had hoped that Madam Giry would be on his side and would help him figure out the feelings that lied within his soul and heart. There was a part of him that told him that this was nothing more then an infatuation and that he just longed for someone who was like Christine. Angelina was her daughter and looked almost identical. Everything about her screamed Christine from her looks to her demeanor.

However, his heart and soul screamed that he was just denying everything. Angelina was nothing like Christine and he had only told himself that to push away the feelings that he felt. With Christine, there was something there that just clicked. Angelina was different. His soul sang when he heard her voice. His heart stopped every time he looked into her eyes. There was a merging of talent there that he had with Christine but not quite as intense. Everything was different about Angelina – including his feelings.

"I wish I could say that I saw Christine in Angelina, but I do not. She is different, Madam Giry. I would not be here to see you if it was that easy."

"You are here for something then?"

"I need to ask you for a favor."

"I am through helping you, Erik. I do not want to see you get hurt again."

"Please, I have never begged you for anything."

Erik walked in front of Madam Giry and looked at her. She had aged with grace and style but he could still see the young woman who saved him so long ago. Would she save him again?

Getting on his knees, he looked up at her with child-like eyes. He rested his head upon her stomach and wrapped his arms around her. His vulnerability was laid out in front of her. Would she embrace it and help him or would she throw it off to the side as many others had?

"I am asking you for help. Everything I am is because of you. You have made me into the man I am today."

"I will not take credit for your genius, Erik. You have done that on your own."

"You set me free and let me live my life."

"It is not a life that you have led, Erik. You merely lived under an opera house. I did not provide you with a life. I provided you with an outlet."

"An outlet in which I embraced my talents and desires. I would not be who I am today."

"Erik, please do not ask anything of me. Let me rest in peace."

"All I ask is that you help your daughter create a dance in which Angelina might perform."

Madam Giry looked at the helpless man who had knelt down in front of her. She watched as a tear streamed down his unmarred cheek. Maybe she had been wrong. Maybe there were feelings there in which Erik did not understand. Could the feelings he felt for Angelina be truly different then the ones he had felt for Christine? She would have to observe and then decide.

"Brigitte had seen to it that Angelina would not perform in Faust. I have pleaded with the managers, even with your son-in-law, but to no avail. They cannot change Brigitte's mind. I need to show the world what Angelina is capable of."

"If I do this, Erik, and something happens, I am not taking responsibility."

"You have my word that I will take on any problems that might occur."

"What is it that you wish me to do?"

* * *

Meg stood on the stage and watched her dancers perform. Several were working on the dances from Faust while others were practicing a routine from the "special performance" which would be performed in a week.

Off to the side, Angelina danced but showed sadness in every step. Although Meg had told her she was the lead in the "special performance", every step that Angelina took held anger and sadness in them. Meg knew that she had wanted to perform in Faust. It was even worse when Brigitte saw to it every day to tell Angelina she was not welcome on stage.

Anger pounded into every step that Angelina took. Meg had seen bruises and cuts all over her feet when Angelina had taken off her ballet slippers. She had told Angelina to take a day off and let them heal but she would hear nothing of it. Angelina continued on through the pain and took out everything in her dance routine.

Meg could not get through to Angelina. Everything she said had fallen upon deaf ears. She knew that the "opera ghost" would not be happy. Angelina only had come to the stage when called upon. Her usual practices had ceased and when she did practice it was only for a short amount of time.

The sound of a cane hitting the stage floor knocked Meg out of her thought process. Every dancer on the stage slowly stopped what they were doing and turned toward the back of the stage. Even Angelina had taken notice and saw and older woman standing there – cane in hand.

Meg's eyes went wide as she watched the figure in a long black dress; begin to walk toward the center of the stage.

"Mother?"

"Gather your dancers, Meg. I wish to watch them perform one-by-one."

Meg could not believe who stood in the center of the stage. Madam Giry, her mother, stood there. Her presence came upon the opera house as if she had never left. No one had known who she was but her voice and presence had sent every dancing running into a straight line on the stage. Angelina slowly joined them and Madam Giry noticed her lack of enthusiasm.

Madam Giry joined her daughter off to the side and smiled at her.

"Mother, what are you doing here?"

"I have come to help you. It seems as though your dancers are tired and unmotivated. I have come to remedy that problem. I want to see their abilities. Direct your company, my dear. Let me see what they are capable of."

Meg directed her dancers as one-by-one they performed for Madam Giry. Gabriella had impressed her as did a few others. She watched as Angelina stepped off to the side as Meg directed them to do a short dance from Faust.

Madam Giry pointed at Angelina. "You, my dear. Step forward."

Angelina glanced at Meg and waited for her to tell her to do the same. She took center stage and Madam Giry noted her stance – unmotivated and tired. The bruises she bore on her feet were beginning to show. _Erik, if you only knew what she looked like now._

"I want you to dance to the same song they just did."

"I am not a part of Faust."

"Same song, different dance. Dance."

The orchestra began the same song that the rest of the dancers had just performed. Madam Giry and Angelina had locked eyes for a moment before Madam Giry gestured for her to begin.

Angelina began her dance slowly. The knocking of the cane against the floor had Angelina looking at Madam Giry.

"I have heard you are one of the best dancers in the world. I do not see that before me!"

Angelina continued on the pace that she had started out with. The cane continued to knock against the wooden floor, echoing throughout the opera house.

"No wonder they do not want you in Faust. You are falling behind. I have seen better."

Meg grimaced as Madam Giry glared at Angelina. Angelina stopped her dance and looked upon Madam Giry with anger and contempt.

"What would you have me do, Madam?"

"Dance like you have been. I have heard many good things about you. I do not see them before me."

"Maybe I have changed."

"Then a pity. You could have been a great star. I suppose Brigitte will continue to be granted the leads of every opera since there is no one to challenge her. Even your mother continued to do her work even though she became discouraged at times."

Madam Giry began to walk away. Erik had told her to be hard on Angelina. His new "assistant" had given Erik word that Angelina had been falling behind on her dancing and her singing. Angelina had missed lessons and practices. Her depression was taking over and Erik knew that in order to get Angelina motivated once again they needed to be hard on her.

Her cane continued to echo as she began to walk away. The tapping of a ballet shoe began to join in rhythm with her cane. The orchestra began a dark and intense song. _This is not from Faust._ Madam Giry slowly turned and watched as the rest of the dancers and Meg walked off to the side.

"I am not my mother."

Angelina slammed her foot against the stage, echoed and sent shivers down Meg's spine. She knew that Angelina hated that more then anything. She hated to be compared to the talents of her mother. She loved her mother dearly but hated the fact that everything she did was compared. She was not her mother and never would be.

Her dance became dark and intense. Her pirouettes and jumps were filled with anger and intensity. Every step she took she doubled. The song ended and she ended her last step right in front of Madam Giry.

Madam Giry smiled and turned and began to walk away again. "I suggest, Mademoiselle de Chagny, that you continue you're dancing. Practice makes perfect. If you fall behind again, you will sit out an entire season and not just an opera. Do I make myself clear?"

Angelina did not answer and watched Madam Giry walk away. Meg walked along side her after she dismissed the rest of the company. She put a gentle hand on Angelina's shoulder.

"You needed this, Angelina. I hate to agree with Brigitte, but you are falling behind. You need to snap out of the depression you are in and get back to the status you were at. For all of our sakes, Angelina, find your soul again before it's too late."

Angelina watched as Meg began off of the stage. Her legs buckled and she fell to the stage floor. Her eyes began to burn as tears streamed down her cheeks. _Practice._ Her mind screamed it. _Practice!_


	21. Practice Makes Perfect

**A/N: I hope you guys like this chapter. I'm sorry for the errors in them. I'm trying to update previous chapters and am trying to fix them. Any of the lyrics you find I'm actually taking from the Phantom of the Opera Screenplay Book. So they're accurate, at least according to the book. Let me know if you guys find any more! It will help a great deal.**

**Please read and review and enjoy!**

**Chapter 20 – Practice Makes Perfect**

The opera house had fallen to sleep. Everything inside had made no noise. In its slumber, the opera house made no changes but sat in darkness. Shadows danced but remained silent.

Disturbing the silence and slumber of the opera house, were the sounds of ballet shoes hitting the old wooden floor of the stage. Step-by-step the shoes made a different sound with every tap. A candle lit several of the lamps along the front of the stage, illuminating the center of it.

A figure sat upon the floor, finishing the lacing of their ballet slippers. Tying the last bow, the figure stood and a shadow cast upon the floor. No music seem to be needed as the figure began to dance in the light and then pirouette into the darkness. The figure did not seem to be bothered by the fact that darkness seemed to be taking over everything around it.

The figure fell to its knees and began to weep. Sorrow had overcome it just as the darkness had.

"Do not cry, my child."

The figure's head slowly began to rise at the sound of Erik's voice.

"We will practice together."

He appeared out of the darkness. Erik stood off to the side of the figure and looked down.

"Rise, Angelina."

With his hand held out, Angelina took a hold of it and stood with his support. She did not let go of his hand in fear of losing him again. He was dressed in a simple pair of black pants and a white shirt that had the top few buttons open exposing his chest. His white mask complimented it perfectly along with his jet black hair. She looked down and noticed nothing on his feet. _Did he plan to dance barefoot? Or dance at all?_

"Take off your shoes."

She shook her head no. Angelina did not want him to see how badly her feet were injured. She had done it to herself for punishment. It did not seem like enough. The pain still hung around her. The pain she inflicted upon herself did not overcome the pain in her heart.

Slowly letting go of her hand, Erik bent down to her feet and began untying the laces around her legs.

"Erik, please…"

"Shhh…you cannot wear these."

He finished unlacing the ties and slowly slipped off the slippers. Hot tears fell upon his shoulder as he looked up and saw Angelina crying. The bruises and cuts upon her feet were horrible. He knew why she had done this and wished he could have saved her sooner. Erik was as much to blame as she was. He had let her down and in turn she had punished herself for his wrong doing.

His touch was gentle over her small and delicate feet. The bruises had just started to begin to heal but the cuts seemed to continue to open after continued use of the ballet slippers. He looked up at her with sadness in his eyes. His hands grasped her waist as he stood in front of her.

"What have you done to yourself?"

"I have let you down. I have let myself down. I have let everyone down."

"You have not let me down. And the doubts you feel about yourself must be overcome by you alone. I cannot help you there."

She nodded her head and looked down at her feet. Sobs racked her body after finally seeing the sight. _Punishment._ That is all she wanted to do to herself. She had failed herself and her dreams. Her soul slowly died through the entire process and she did not know how to restore it.

"Please, Erik, forgive me."

"I have nothing to forgive you for. You have learned the lesson on your own. This was one I could not teach you."

He embraced her, holding her in his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, leaning on his chest and listening to his heart beat. Erik had never done this with Christine. It was an entirely new sensation. The sensation was unbelievably pleasant. He did not want to let her go. She had fit right into his embrace and it had seemed so right.

Leaning next to her ear he whispered. "You must practice if you are to perform in a week's time."

She slowly pulled back from his embrace and looked at him. Did he truly expect her to perform in this special show? She was unprepared and had not practiced at all. She only stood to disappoint him once again.

"I do not want to disappoint you. I have told Madam Giry that I will not be performing."

"You will tell her tomorrow morning that you will be."

"Erik, I have not practiced. I will only disappoint you once again."

"You will disappoint me if you do not perform. Now tonight, and for every night until the performance, you and I will practice your routine."

"You cannot dance ballet, Erik. You might be able to sing but you cannot dance."

"You do not know the talents I possess."

Once again, holding out his hand, Erik looked at her and smiled. Angelina had not noticed, until that moment, how captivating it was just to look at Erik. She had fallen under his spell and had not found anything to break it. Taking his hand, he spun Angelina into his arms and leaned her back, causing her to look up at him.

"You underestimate your teacher."

Taking her body weight, Angelina lifted her legs and flipped herself to stand right side up, still holding onto his hand. She bowed in front of him and looked at him with a smile on her face. She ignored the pain from her feet and let his smile heal her.

"And you underestimate your student."

* * *

They had practiced for several hours. Angelina had finally regained her confidence and found that Erik truly did know how to dance. He had lifted her and spun her better then half of the male dancers in her company. Erik truly was a man of many talents – although it really didn't surprise her. It had caused her to smile all too often and he had caught her every time. _He must think me mad!_

No one, not even Jonathan, had caused her to smile as much as he made her. Erik had a hold over her that no one else possessed. There were secrets held within her that she longed to tell him. Fear consumed her and forced her to keep them to herself. Would the fear ever disappear enough for her to be able to tell him what lied inside?

She did not know what time it was but her body had begun to ache and grow tired. Her legs finally gave out and Erik had picked her up before she hit the hard floor. She was not light, by any means, but he carried her as though she was as light as a feather.

Thinking that he would take her back to his lair, he carried her to her room instead. He gently put her into the bed, paying careful mind to her feet. Before he covered her, he disappeared into the darkness. Her eyes grew heavy, and before he would return, and shut. Sleep carried her into her never ending dream world.

* * *

Erik had returned to her room, leaving Angelina for only a few moments. In his hand he carried a bowl of water, a rag, and some bandages to take care of the cuts on her feet. As he entered her room, he nearly dropped the bowl of water. Regaining his composure, he looked at the sight before him. Smiling, as he did earlier in the night, he looked at the angel sleeping in the bed.

Quietly closing the door behind him, he walked over to the bed and sat at the foot of it. He did not want to wake her but took care of the sores on her feet, bandaging them right after cleaning them. He looked at her slender frame as he brought the blanket up to cover her.

Angelina was not as small as her mother but her body had curves her mother did not possess. Her skin was darker as were her eyes. She was definitely not Christine. As much as it pained him to say it, he saw more of Raoul in her then Christine. The eyes were his as was the laugh. Erik recalled it too well as he used to hear him laugh around Christine all the time.

Erik sat next to her and watched her chest rise and fall with every breath she took. He followed her neck up to her beautiful lips. Remembering the only kiss he ever had, Erik began to wonder what it would be like to kiss Angelina. Christine had kissed him to save herself and to save Raoul. It had been the death of him. It had broken his soul like nothing else had ever done. Christine knew what she did and it caused him to free both the love of his life and the man of her dreams. It would damn him for all eternity. Would kissing Angelina set him free?

_No! Erik, you are thinking with the mind of a love sick boy. Regain your dignity. Return to your lair and ignore her before you hurt yourself once again._

But his heart reminded him that it was not her lips that captivated him. It was her eyes that held him near to her. Her eyes seemed to be the windows to not only her soul but his soul as well. Although closed, Erik remembered her sky blue eyes and how they looked at him with respect and admiration. _Could they ever look at me with something else?_ He dreamed of a day when there could possibly be more between the two of them. But that's all it was – a dream.

He gently put a hand to her face and her body began to stir. He was about to take it away when she pressed her cheek into his hand further. Something stirred inside of him. Taking a chance, Erik gently moved her over and lied down next to her. She did not move as dreams took her away from reality. Erik did not need dreams tonight. His dream was lying next to him with no idea he was lying next to her.

It was only moments before Erik's eyes closed and sleep overtook him. A smile lingered on his face as his dreams drifted to the woman who lied beside him.


	22. To Sleep: Perchance to Dream

**A/N: This chapter is a little different. I hope it's not too out there. As always, I'd love to hear what you guys think. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 21 – To Sleep: Perchance to Dream**

Music surrounded her – filled her with a sense of being. It echoed through the corridor that she walked down. As she continued down the corridor, it seemed to grow smaller and smaller with each step. The music continued to grow in intensity and suddenly stopped once she came upon a door at the end of the corridor.

Turning the handle, she stepped inside and into a small room. Contained inside was a lone chair and light from an unknown source. The music began again once she shut the door behind her.

"Sit."

A voice beckoned from above her. Without thought or reason, she sat in the chair. The room was freezing and she noticed all she was wearing was the nightgown that she had worn to bed.

Angelina's eyes widened as she saw two figures walk out of the shadows. Erik stood to one side as Jonathan stood on the other. Confusion filled her mind and slowly began to take over. She continued to hear the music in the background but her concentration was changed once Jonathan and Erik began to circle her chair.

"Your mind is torn." Jonathan sounded angry. Almost as if he was angry that Erik was in the same room as him. Angelina knew that Jonathan had no idea the feelings she had for Erik: neither did she.

"Your heart longs to be in love. Yet you deny what it wants." Erik's voice, although she now knew it was a dream, was still seductive and took a hold of her.

"You promised me you would consider my proposal."

"You said you would be my student."

"Did you lie?"

"To us both?"

"I…" She could not answer. Her mind wanted Jonathan. He was intelligent and was well placed in society. Her heart longed for Erik. He was talented and sensual. Both were at war with one another. It was tearing her apart inside.

"Can you not answer us?" Jonathan stood in front of Angelina and looked down at her. "Can you not look at me and tell me that you love me?"

Before she could answer, Erik's hand grasped her neck. A single finger began slow circles on it, causing her to sigh and close her eyes.

"You would deny me to make your mark in society? You would deny what was in your heart to please your parents?"

Was that what held her heart at bay? Did she fear what her parents would say if she admitted that she had feelings for her teacher? Maybe that was what was holding her back. She still thought of him as her teacher. She could not think of him as anything else.

Angelina rose; knocking over the chair and causing both Jonathan and Erik to take a step back from her. Before anything could be said, a bout of dizziness overtook her and she fell to the ground…

* * *

Her eyes slowly began to open and she stood. Her new surroundings were foreign. Hot sand covered her bare feet and the blazing sun scorched her skin. Angelina felt as though she were burning from the inside out.

The nightgown she once wore was gone and was replaced by a flowing blood red ball gown. The dark color did not help her with the midday sun that was above her. Although the sun was hot, once she began walking she realized that the sand felt cool against her hot skin.

The wind that blew from the east captured her dress but did not disturb the sand. Angelina continued to walk and began to grow fearful. There was not a sound. As she tried to call to see if anyone was around, no sound came out of her mouth. She frantically clawed at her throat but no sound would escape her lips.

Tears came to her eyes and fell to the sand. She watched as the sand turned to ice everywhere her tears fell. The ice began to grow along the sand – surrounding her and trapping her. With no voice and nowhere to go, Angelina fell to her knees and continued crying. Her sobs were not heard.

Clouds slowly covered the sun; turning the desert into a winter abyss. Her skin grew cold and smoke rose from her mouth. She shivered as the wind continued to pick up.

_Alone. I am alone again._

She had told her parents that she wanted nothing more then to be alone. Ever since she left their side she had been alone. Both of her parents had told her it was not easy to be alone. She refused to tell them that they were right. Although she had Gabriella and was becoming fast friends with Rene, she still felt alone.

"You are never alone."

A cloak wrapped around her shoulders, gathering the little warmth she had left inside. Strong arms lifted her from the ground and helped her stand. The arms that helped her stand took a hold of her and pulled her close. Angelina could feel the muscles in the figure's chest. His heart was beating in time with her own.

She reveled in the warmth of him. The feelings of loneliness disappeared as soon as the figure had taken her into his arms. She had never felt so content.

_Except when I was with Erik. Or when I was with Jonathan when I was little._

The feelings that she had for both men were still at war with one another. Would there ever be a time when she would figure them out? Would she ever find out if she truly loved one man?

Until then, she would take in the warmth from the figure that held her close to him. The wind continued to blow around them, causing her to shiver. But the shivers were not from fear but from the cold. She feared nothing now. At this point in time, nothing could touch her. Every sensation that she felt was through the man that held her.

The music, from the beginning of her dream, began once again. This time it did not grow in intensity but stayed at a steady tempo and volume. It did not frighten her as it first did. This time it made her feel warm and safe.

The figure pulled back from her and looked down upon her. She could not see him in the shadows that covered his face. He did not speak but just looked upon her.

"Will you not speak to me?"

The figure did not speak but put a hand to her face. She closed her eyes from his touch. It was as if it was hot and cold at the same time. Angelina wished she could figure out who it was that stood in front of her. She knew it was either Jonathan or Erik and it disturbed her to know that she could not tell which one it was.

Before she could register any more thoughts, lips were upon hers without warning. The strong arms that once gently embraced her now pulled her close to him with intensity. It was as if fire had consumed her. The exploration of her mouth and his was a sensation that she had never experienced.

His rough, yet gentle, hands began slowly exploring the bare skin on her back. Their lips did not part as he slowly brought his hands around and explored her waist and slowly began upward. He swallowed her sighs as he gently continued upward, grazing his hands over the top of her breasts.

Without warning, he pulled away and backed into the darkness. He left Angelina standing there, her breathing labored and her hand upon her swollen lips. Tears began to form in her eyes as everything around her began to lighten and slowly fade away…

* * *

Angelina sat up in her bed and held back a scream. Her hand quickly covered her mouth. _Dear God! Did I actually just dream that?_ Never before had her dreams given her sensations and visions such as the ones she just had. Her breathing was still heavy and her heart continued to pound in her chest.

Who had been the figure who kissed her in her dream? Angelina could not begin to imagine that it was Erik. It had to have been Jonathan. But the feelings and the sensations she had felt did not seem like Jonathan. She had only felt those feelings when she was with Erik on the stage.

_God, please, save me from my heart._

She slowly rose from the bed, keeping the sheets gathered around her for protection. Erik was nowhere to be seen and the mirror was tightly shut. As badly as she wanted to tell him about her dream, she knew that if he was standing there she would not have the courage to tell him.

As she stepped toward the window, she noticed her bandaged feet. He had taken care of her before leaving. She smiled and it grew once she saw something sitting on the table by the window. Slowly walking over, she gently placed her hand over two pairs of ballet slippers. One was midnight black while the other was snow white. They were both beautiful and just her size.

Angelina noticed a note just off to the side – unsealed and unmarked. Pulling the note from the envelope, she noted Erik's handwriting right away.

_Dearest Angelina,_

_By the time you read this, the sun will have already risen over Paris. Before you are two pairs of ballet slippers: one black and the other white. When you perform your dance, you may choose which one you wish to use. You must stand out from all of the other dancers. You are unique. Your dance will be in top form and I wanted you to have something from me to remind you that I am always with you._

_The other pair you will save for another day. Keep them hidden so that you cannot use them. I will give you the reason as to why later. Practice. I will be watching._

_Erik_

Angelina would do as she was told. She chose the black ones to go with the costume Meg had already chosen. Taking a small box from under her bed, she gently placed the white ballet slippers inside. She returned the box to its home and looked back out the window.

Paris did not seem so lonely now. Although her dream still disturbed her, the gesture from Erik warmed her heart. She was filled with hope and a sense of belonging that she never had before. Angelina would not let Brigitte take over her life as she had. _Hope._ Angelina smiled and sighed. She would give something for Paris to talk about. Her dance would make men fall at her feet.

Angelina only wished for one at her feet but knew that she would have two. Soon she would have to decide which one truly claimed her heart. Until then, the war would rage inside of her and take over her: both mind and soul.


	23. One Night Only

**A/N: I am out of my rut! Yay! I'm not stuck on chapter 29 any more so you will be getting plenty more out of this story. I'm really hoping that you are enjoying this story. All comments are welcome. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 22 – One Night Only**

The opera house would be filled to capacity. There had never been a night where the audience was waiting in anticipation. The rumors flew throughout all of Paris of the solo dancing of Angelina de Chagny. Tickets sold faster then they had for Faust. Brigitte's temper rose but Arnaud's softened.

He had hoped against hope that Paris would receive Angelina well. After the incident backstage after Don Juan, Arnaud was unsure Angelina would ever perform again. The rumors, several in fact, had spread not only all over the opera house but through Paris as well. He knew that Angelina was suffering under her mother's shadow. She longed to be out on her own.

Arnaud granted Meg's request for a special production by her dance company. He had also received a letter, early in the week, for Box Five to be left empty. Many noblemen and other important people had specifically asked for Box Five but could not give it to them. The "special financier" had requested the box and could not deny him. He hoped to finally meet the gentleman who had given him Don Juan Triumphant. But somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he doubted very much that he would ever meet the man.

The production contained various songs from different operas. Angelina's solo was handpicked by Meg and was choreographed by the both of them. Arnaud had not seen it but was told by various members of the crew that it was beyond words. He certainly hoped so. All of Paris was in wait to see her perform.

Meg had told him that she was proud of Angelina, coming out of the melancholy that she had been in. She had taken herself and totally changed over night. Neither Meg nor Arnaud was sure what changed her but thanked the angel, silently, for the change.

He stood center stage and looked out at the empty chairs before him. All of Paris would be there tonight – in his opera house. The spotlight would be on the one girl who could change everything for him. Angelina held the key to his success. It was not Brigitte or anyone else. Tonight, everything rested on Angelina's shoulders. He just hoped she was up for the task.

* * *

The dressing room was filled with flowers of every color. The smell consumed her and made her smile. She remembered the gardens in the back of the de Chagny estate. Gardeners constantly kept the back of the house in full bloom and as beautiful as a summer day. There wasn't a day that went by that the scent of flowers didn't fill her.

Angelina sat in front of the large mirror in front of her. The image of her seemed to grow smaller and smaller. The costume she wore was a beautiful white gown, trimmed in black lace. Her hands were shaking – nervous and scared at the same time. Her feelings were all jumbled and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her feet had finally healed with much help from Meg over the previous days. The bruises were gone and the cuts had finally begun to disappear. Although there were bandages upon her feet, Angelina had seen to it that they were not seen and were covered by her ballet slippers.

The slippers had fit her perfectly and felt gentle upon her feet. She watched herself in the mirror as she began to lace them up her legs. The ribbons on them were longer then most slippers and tied just below her knee. Her hand lingered on the ribbon, remembering just who gave them to her. _Erik._

She smiled just thinking his name. Every night since had danced with her he had consumed her mind. There were dreams of them just dancing to them singing on stage. Whatever they were doing, it was passionate and intense. She had never felt the way she did when she thought of him.

Her heart betrayed her. She had prayed every night for God to guide her down the right path. Every time she thought she was being led to Jonathan, her heart screamed at her not to be. She wanted a life with Jonathan. He would be good to her and support her while she danced and fulfilled her dreams.

But her dreams were not filled with Jonathan. They were filled with Erik. She continued to tell herself that Erik was merely her teacher and that it was nothing more then an infatuation. But her heart would not take that for an answer.

He had practiced with her every night – as promised. His touch was gentle and he was careful not to hurt her feet any more then they already were. Angelina could tell he was holding back and something was bothering him. He continued to deny anything was every time she asked him.

Angelina stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself one last time. The other dancers would just be finishing up their parts. It was her turn. Taking one last deep breath, she turned and prayed that Erik was watching her.

* * *

The lights dimmed and she could hear the voices echoing around her. The audience was talking amongst themselves as the candlelight around her slowly began to grow brighter. The spotlight upon her seemed to be in a different glow then usual. It was deep red and seemed to bath her in a glow she was not accustomed to.

The music began and Angelina began to dance across the stage. Her feet guided her. It was as though she was in heaven. How she could have denied herself the simple pleasure of dancing because of Brigitte hurt her more then she cared to know? Her soul longed to be on stage. It longed to dance and be free.

She smiled as she continued about, hitting every cue. Monsieur Laurent watched her intensity grow with every note that his orchestra played. He did not know a smile had crossed his lips until he felt it tug his cheeks. The girl was amazing and unlike anyone he had ever seen on stage before. The managers were happy. The dancers were happy. And frankly, so was he. He would revel in it until the wonder of this young woman was gone from the opera house.

* * *

Box Five was kept in the dark, just like he liked it. No one in management knew he was there, only that it was reserved for the "special financier". Erik took special note of how they took his letters. Unlike the other two, Paul and Arnaud were smarter with both money and how his opera house was run.

But it what was on stage that he was most proud of. Angelina danced the night away with style and grace. She took the stage. The spotlight did not do her justice. She needed to be bathed in a light from the heavens. Angelina was an angel.

_My angel._

He smiled as he continued to watch her. The practices every night helped her to regain her confidence. Erik had seen to it that she would be no less then perfect the night of the performance. Angelina had taken every command he gave and performed it better then he had expectations for.

Angelina pirouetted one last time before she completed her solo. Erik watched as the entire opera house stood and applauded her. Flowers of every kind were thrown on stage and the applause did not stop as Angelina continued to bow.

Smiling, Erik turned and left Box Five and the memory of his angel finally getting through to the high society of Paris.

* * *

The recital was a complete success. All of Paris had come to be entertained and entertained they were. Noblemen from nearby towns and from Paris had nothing but grand words to say about Meg's dancers. The name of one rode upon the mouths of everyone: Angelina de Chagny.

Meg watched Angelina blush at every compliment she received. The young woman was not used to such admiration and praise. Meg had grown up accustomed to receiving and giving praise. Her mother taught her the meaning of simplicity. A compliment received was a compliment well earned. And Angelina had done plenty to receive the ones she was tonight.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a figure moving through the crowd. Angelina was busy talking with Gabriella and Rene to bother noticing the figure. Meg's eyes narrowed and watched as the figure continued to push their way through.

"Please, let me through!"

Meg shook her head and laughed. _Jonathan_. She never imagined him making it in time. He had written her several times over the week, unsure if he would make it to the performance but to reserve him a seat just in case. The word had reached him and Alexander and he had asked Meg to keep it a surprise. She had kept up her end of the bargain and the seat was reserved. Her focus was mainly on the performance and she had not bothered to look to see if he was in attendance.

But there he was, forcing his way through the crowd to get to Angelina. Meg noticed a small box in his hand and a smile on his face. He finally reached Meg, out of breath.

"I see that you made it."

"I came in during half of the performance but in time for Angelina."

"I am glad."

She noticed his gaze shifted from her to Angelina. Angelina was laughing and smiling as if she didn't have a care in the world. All of the weight that she had upon her shoulders seemed to have lifted from them. Meg had never seen her so happy.

"Angelina…"

Angelina slowly turned and the smile from her face gone. Meg watched her swallow hard as she looked at Jonathan.

"Jonathan…"

"I made it just in time to see your performance."

He rushed to her and took her in his arms. The look of shock was still on her face as Jonathan held her. He quickly brought himself back and looked at her.

"You were magnificent."

"Thank you."

"I brought you something."

Angelina looked at the small box in his hand. Rene and Gabriella slowly moved off as Meg watched from a distance. She could see that Angelina was no happy to see Jonathan. The boy seemed to love her very much yet the feelings were not mutual. It seemed as though her mind and heart had belonged to someone else. _Who could it be? It could not be Rene. They were good friends but nothing else. Who could possess her heart and mind like they have?_

"You did not have to bring me anything, Jonathan."

"Open it."

Angelina took the small box and carefully untied the ribbon around it. Opening the box, Angelina's eyes went wide when she saw what was inside. As she pulled it out, Jonathan's smile grew wide.

"Where did you get this!"

The box dropped from Angelina's hand and in the other hand, a silver bracelet. It was not the bracelet that excited her. It was what was attached to it – a silver ballet slipper. She looked up at him, tears in her eyes.

"I had a jeweler make it special. I knew that ballet consumed your heart. I hope one day I will as well."

Both of their eyes met and no words were needed.

* * *

In the darkness of the rafters, high above all of the commotion, Erik stood and watched what was going on below him. It did not take him long to pick out Angelina amongst the crowd. He smiled as he watched her laugh and talk with his assistant and her friend. The smile soon receded as he watched Jonathan make his way through the crowd.

He recalled Meg reading a letter several nights ago from him. The boy did not think he would make it. _I guess Angelina would make any man clear his schedule_.

Disappointment crossed his face as he watched the two interact. Angelina did not seem happy that he was there but that look soon changed once she pulled the bracelet out of the box. He could not see what was on it but knew that it made her happy.

"I had a jeweler make it special. I knew that ballet consumed your heart. I hope one day I will as well."

His hand slammed the banister that was in front of him. The hand stung from the blow but he ignored it as he watched both Angelina and Jonathan gaze at each other. _Just like Christine and Raoul. The boy is getting to her._ He was fighting a losing battle. Just as her mother did, Angelina would fall into the arms of her childhood sweetheart and there would be nothing he could do about it.

Erik watched as Jonathan took her hand and slipped the bracelet on her wrist. The boy didn't let go and entwined his fingers with hers. A tear slipped down his cheek as Jonathan kissed her, sweet and gentle.

* * *

Jonathan took her hand and slipped the bracelet on her wrist. He looked at her pale skin and her small and delicate hand. Taking a chance, he entwined his fingers with hers and pulled her close. Her eyes never left his and taking one last deep breath, he leaned in and kissed her.

Her lips were soft and like velvet. He had waited for this moment his entire life and here he was kissing the girl of his dreams. His other hand wrapped around her waist and drew her closer. _There is nothing that can destroy this moment._

The sound of a door slamming shut caused Angelina to break the kiss and step back from Jonathan. They both stared at each other, unsure of what to say. Angelina quickly straightened her dress and looked away from his gaze.

"I…"

"Do not, Angelina. Please do not ruin this moment."

Her breathing became heavy as did her heart. _I am supposed to be happy. Jonathan has just kissed me and here I am, ready to run._ Her mind raced with many thoughts and questions and her heart held one answer: _I do not love him._

Revelation hit her like a tidal wave. It rushed over her and wished to knock her off of her feet. There was no love in her heart for Jonathan any longer. He was a childhood sweetheart. But there was only friendship for him and nothing else. She could not break his heart. _Not now._

"Angelina, I must return home. I came here to see you perform and I must return tonight. I will send your parents your love."

He stepped up to her and looked deep in her eyes. There was something there that he could not figure out. Was it hatred? Fear? Love? He had hoped the latter but would not press the subject any further.

"Know that I will think of you while I am away and that I love you with all of my heart."

He gently kissed her on the forehead and began to walk away. Angelina stood there, the weight of the world on her shoulders once again. Jonathan loved her but she could not return the feelings he longed for. She did not know who her heart belonged to but it was not him. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Angelina…"

Wiping away her tear, she turned to see Rene standing there holding an envelope.

"Someone just dropped this off. It is a letter for you."

With trembling hands, Angelina took the note from Rene's hand.

"Are you alright?"

"No." She laughed as the tears formed in her eyes. "No, I am not."

"Do you need to talk to someone?"

"I will be fine. Thank you."

Rene lingered for another moment before silently moving away. Fumbling with the seal, Angelina opened it, knowing who it was from.

_Dearest Angelina,_

_Your performance was superb. I watched and smiled the entire time. I saw Monsieur de Wynter made it also. I am glad your fiancé made it to your performance…_

More tears ran down her face. He knew. Erik knew of Jonathan's proposal. _God, everything is going so wrong…_

_The light upon your face gave me joy. I am glad to see you happy and out of your state of melancholy. Faust will soon be performing and you will be on the outside looking in…_

Angelina could hear the sadness in his voice. She also heard his past as well. '_The outside looking in.' That's how Erik must feel every day of his life._

_During this time you will rehearse and train in order to obtain the lead in the next opera. You will be a star again, Angelina. I will see to it. And your fiancé will once again look upon perfection._

_Yours,_

_Erik_

Tears hit the note in her hand. _'Yours, Erik." _Never had words hit her so hard. Her heart felt as though it would burst into a million pieces. She needed to find him and explain everything. She needed to tell him how she felt. _It must be done tonight! I cannot bare the pain any longer._

The sound of her ballet slippers moving quickly across the floor were drowned out by the voices of the men and women backstage discussing the night's events.


	24. The Key to One's Heart

**A/N: In honor of the release of Phantom of the Opera DVD, I thought I would post a chapter a little earlier then planned. Read, review, and enjoy.**

**Chapter 23 – The Key to One's Heart**

The pipes vibrated with every note that came through them. Every key cracked once they were hit with intensity. The organ was the willing object of abuse by its owner. If it could speak, it would scream from the pain it was going through.

Erik sat at his organ and continued to drown in his sorrows through his music. Every note carried a part of him away.

_Damn her! Damn him!_

He slammed his fists on the organ. Every pipe screamed in protest but the protests fell on deaf ears. The pain consumed him and took over him: mind, body, and soul. All he could see in front of him was Angelina and Jonathan kissing. _His lips on her lips. His hands on her body._

He stood, the bench slamming to the ground. Raking his hands through his hair, the wig began to slide off of his head. Not caring any more, he ripped it off of his head and threw it across the room. His bare skull was open for the entire world to see. _I do not care!_

"Why!" He fell to his knees as he heard his question echo throughout the room. "Why?"

The robe fell around him as if it was security blanket for his soul. The pain that he thought had gone away had come back tenfold. Christine, Raoul, Angelina, Jonathan…they were all the same. Childhood sweethearts reunited in an opera house. And a teacher who suffers because of it all.

There was no passion in his eyes any longer. There was only anger and regret. If he had only told her sooner this might have never happened. _You let it slip by you, Erik. You let her go._

He had done the same with Christine. Afraid of hurting her and her hurting him, he had let the one thing in his life that he loved go. Christine returned to Raoul without any thought or care.

Slowly looking up, he looked out at the lake and recalled the day, seventeen years ago, where his life and heart would change forever…

* * *

He stood in the water, holding the rope which was a noose around Raoul's neck. His eyes never left hers. Tears streamed down her face and ran onto the wedding gown he had made for her. Raoul was tied to the iron gate that blocked the entrance to his lair. He was wet and cold from the trap Erik had set hours before Don Juan had played.

"Past the point of no return…" He looked at her, tears coming to his own eyes.

"Angel of Music…"

"For pity's sake, Christine, say no!"

"…Who deserved this?"

"…the final threshold…"

"Don't throw your life away for my sake…"

"His life is now the prize which you must earn!"

"Why do you curse mercy?"

"I fought so hard to free you…"

"Angel of Music…"

"You've passed the point of no return…"

"…you deceived me – I gave you my mind blindly…"

Rage consumed him. She still denied him! He held the life of her one true love in his hands and she still denied him what he wanted!

"You try my patience." It rolled off his tongue – hot and angry. "Make your choice!"

He pulled on the rope and he heard Raoul choke. Erik watched as Christine mouthed the words 'I love you' to Raoul and looked at him. Her eyes were blank and he could not tell what she was thinking.

"Pitiful creature of darkness…"

She began toward him, slowly, parting the water as Moses did when he was bringing his people to salvation. Would she bring him salvation?

"…what kind of life have you known…? God give me courage to show you…" She slowly put the ring that Raoul had given her, onto her hand. It was his now. He had given it to her, promising himself to her. "…you are not alone!"

It was fast and swift yet gentle and sweet. Her lips were upon his. She gently touched his chest bringing the passion to a higher climax. Unsure of what was going on and what to do; he kept his hands at his sides, still holding the rope that held Raoul's neck.

She broke the kiss and they both looked at each other. Shock passed over his face and kindness filled her eyes. For a brief moment he thought he saw love but before he could look further, her lips were upon his once again.

This time the kiss was deeper and more sensual. Her hand gently touched the marred side of his face. His eyes closed at the touch and this time he truly felt it. _Is this what love is? Please, God do not ever let this end._

It was not Christine that broke the kiss but Erik that did. His heart could take no more. In that moment, he knew he had to let her go. No force or bond could keep her there with him. The love he felt for her was too strong to force her to stay with him. The hot tears that ran down his cheeks scorched him. He wept. He could not contain it any longer.

He began up to his room – to be rid of the sight of her. Wanting to forget her, he hardly looked back at her.

"Take her – forget me – forget all of this…Leave me alone – forget all you've seen…"

He watched, out of the corner of his eye, Christine frantically beginning to untie Raoul. They hugged and his heart broken even more.

"Take the boat – swear to me never to tell the secret you know of the angel in hell – go…go now…go now and leave me!"

He glanced at them one last time before moving in the darkness…

* * *

Erik's eyes slowly closed as he began to block the rest of the memory. It was all history from there. She had given back the ring she placed on her finger just seconds before she kissed him.

_The ring…_

He slowly rose and began toward the organ once again. Opening a panel in the organ, he brought out a small box that was locked with a key. Bringing the small key out of his pocket, Erik opened the box and looked inside.

_The ring._

His large fingers grasped the ring and brought it out of the box. The diamonds still continued to shine as if it was just out of the jeweler's case. The gold ring went nicely with each of the settings. A large diamond was in the middle and surrounded by several smaller ones in a circle.

The masquerade was the night he had taken the ring from Christine. The jealousy that flowed through him that night was unmatched until tonight. His thoughts drifted back to Angelina and Jonathan. The ring cut into his hand and drops of blood fell on his robe. He opened his hand and saw that it had cut his palm.

He sought out his wig and put it back onto his head. Feeling more like a man, he looked at the ring once again. He still did not understand why Christine left the ring with him. It was a small torture device. It was not a means to an end.

He had not heard the gentle footsteps or the sound of the ballet slippers slowly walking up the steps to the organ.

Angelina had seen Erik pull the box from the organ and the ring out of it. The darkness hid the rest of his features. She could see nothing but the ring and his large hands. The blood dipped as did his tears. Whatever the ring meant to him had angered him and made him cut his hand. He shifted in the darkness and retrieved something. She had to make her presence known before any more damage was done.

"Whose ring is that?"

Erik's eyes slowly widened as he heard Angelina's voice behind him. His head slowly turned and he saw his angel standing there.

"Erik, whose ring is that?"

He could not speak. This shock was still registering with him.

"Will you not answer?"

There were no words to be said as she knelt before him and just stared.


	25. Little White Lie

**A/N: I am so glad that you guys are enjoying the story. I'm writing chapter 35 as we speak. With the release of the DVD, I've found inspiration once again. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Please read and review as always. I love to hear what you guys think.**

**Chapter 24 – Little White Lie**

Angelina waited for a response but received none. It was as if Erik was pondering on what to tell her. He was afraid of either her reaction or the truth behind it all. She had just wanted to know why it held power over him.

"Erik, you do not have to tell me."

She rose and tore a piece of her dress. Dressing the wound, Erik stared off into space, not making eye contact with her. Her touch was gentle as she dressed his wound as a surgeon would. Her hand lingered upon his as his gaze finally met hers.

"I did not ask you to bring up memories from your past. I only asked you to find out why it hurts you so much. If it did not, your hand would not need to be bandaged."

The ring was gently placed back into his naked hand. She closed his fingers around it and watched as he drew his hand back to his chest. Pain was hidden behind his dark eyes. There were shadows of his past that she longed to know but was afraid to ask. There were shadows behind her eyes as well but Angelina knew they were well hidden.

"It was from a friend."

His voice was shaky and uncertain. She watched as he put the ring back into its box and back into its hiding spot.

"Erik, do not tell me…"

"It was from a dear friend. Nothing more."

"I understand."

His other hand, which was still covered by the worn leather glove, reached out and touched her cheek. A sense of longing captured her eyes and his. It was as if his touch shocked them both. She removed it from her cheek and before he could retract it, she removed his glove and replaced it back to where it was.

"If you need to touch me, Erik, it needs to be you. I do not want anything between us."

Before he could speak, he thought of what she said. There was an ocean between them. Secrets upon secrets that he held from the child in front of him. Rising and growling, he stood and turned his back to her. He could feel her stare burn into his back. She was as confused as he. Was it not only moments before that she had kissed the boy!

"I am surprised you are not with Monsieur de Wynter."

Angelina cringed at Jonathan's name. She should have known he was in the rafters watching her. _Oh my God! He saw the kiss!_ She began to rise but she watched him hold up the exposed hand.

"Do not rise for my sake. I know what lies in your heart."

"Far from it, Erik. I do not even know what lies within my heart."

"I know her."

The statement puzzled her. He moved from one subject to another. "You know who?"

"I know Christine Daae. Better known to you as Christine de Chagny."

His head slowly turned and he watched Angelina turn deathly white. The silence in the room was deafening as Angelina tried to stand. Her legs could not support her, the shock still not registering.

"You know…you know…"

Erik's arms quickly embraced her and helped her stand. Noticing his arms were around her, she pushed him away and stumbled backwards. She fell but stood once again, her mind not registering the pain.

"You know my mother?"

"Angelina, please do not walk away…"

Her legs were like stone. She could not move. He was drawing closer and all she wanted to do was run. _He knows my mother. He knows Christine._

"Do not come any closer!"

"Please, Angelina…"

He held out his hand. The hand was naked and bare just like his heart. He had hurt her beyond anything he had ever wanted to. There was more but tonight, Erik would not reveal that 'the phantom' that haunted her mother was him.

"You know my mother and did not tell me?"

"I did not want to burden you with that."

"I think it was my right to know."

"It was."

She fell but this time, when Erik caught her, Angelina did not push him away. The pain would not slowly go away. But there was more to say and if he did not get it out, he never would.

"How long did you know her?"

"I only saw her a few times." _Lies! You lie to her and then expect her to love you!_ "I watched her in the wings while she performed. Much like I do you."

Angelina looked at Erik with tears in her eyes. She had to ask the one question that she knew she shouldn't. "Were you her teacher?"

_Do not lie to her, Erik. If you do, it will be your downfall._

"No." His throat swelled until he could speak no more. Her gaze destroyed every barrier that he had put up for himself. To be with her he would lie. He would lie about his past to save his future. "I did not teach your mother."

Her head nodded as she rose from his grasp. The legs that helped her stand were sturdier now. Angelina had regained her composure and her strength. Although the pain still lingered, the honesty of Erik helped her.

"Your mother was a star on her own." _And yet you continue to lie._ "She was beautiful and magnificent. And much like…"

He stopped as her gaze lowered. The thought of being compared to her mother hurt Angelina more then anyone could fathom. It was not the fact that she did not love her mother. That could not be further from the truth. It was the fact that she was not seen for her own talents but the talents that were her mother's. All Angelina asked for was a mark on society and she had still not received it.

"Do not compare me to my mother, Erik. That is all I ask of you."

Their gazes met once again. His naked hand brushed away the tear that escaped from the side of her eye. He stood watching her. There was no pain on her face. There was no emotion. Did she hate Christine that much? Did she hate her to the point of not wanting to be compared to her?

"I am my own person. I love my mother, Erik. I do. But I cannot be Christine. I will never be Christine de Chagny or Christine Daae. She is in my blood but I am nothing like her."

_All I want is my own light. I just want to be Angelina and not my mother's shadow._

The more Erik thought about it, the more he believed she was right. Christine was a child when he met her, much like Angelina. But Angelina had grown into her own. She was no longer a child in Erik's eyes but a young woman who still had many facets to be explored.

Her voice still had yet to be perfected but her dancing was unlike any other. She could dance with passion and sensuality or she could dance with anger and fury. Her feet and her hands held her true talent. Her voice would come later.

The woman who stood before him was _not_ Christine but Angelina de Chagny. She was the woman who held the key to everything that was his: his soul and his heart. The feelings for Christine still lingered in his heart but were being overpowered by the feelings for Angelina.

"Please, Erik, tell me you do not see me as Christine. Please be the only one in Paris who does not see me as my mother."

Her eyes pleaded with his. Without thought, as if guided by instinct, his head shook. "No, Angelina. I do not see Christine standing before me."

Her smile lit up the room. Her soul was set free. For the first time, someone did not see her as Christine de Chagny – the famed opera singer. Someone saw her as Angelina de Chagny – the up and coming opera singer.

"I see my student. I see you, Angelina. No one else."

She ran to him and into his arms. His arms wrapped around her and held her close. The scent that covered her entered into his memory. _Warm vanilla. Cinnamon._ He smiled. Angelina was in his arms and not running from him.

_You lied to her. It will haunt you._

Erik did not care what the voice inside of him screamed. Yes, he had lied to her. But to protect her and him, he would do it again. The events earlier in the night erased themselves from his memory. The boy had nothing on him – at least that is what he told himself. Angelina did not reciprocate Jonathan's affections as she did with Erik. The thought of it brought a smile to his lips.

She pulled back from him and smiled. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For believing in me. For actually seeing me. No one had ever said that to me before. Everyone usually tells me that they cannot see me and only my mother."

"You are basked in your own light – as you deserve to be."

Her smile grew wider. But the thought remained. _You are lying to him, Angelina. You are lying to yourself._ Could she ever truly be honest with Erik? Could she ever be honest with herself?

"Enough talk of the past. There are many lessons still to be taught."

Angelina watched Erik sit down at the organ and begin playing a piece she barely recalled. She sighed and pushed her thoughts away. _Best kept for another day_. The love she held in her heart would be kept at bay until she thought the time was right to try and understand it. Would Erik ever look at her the way she wanted him to? Would he ever look at her the same way her father did with her mother?

Erik could feel her thinking. _What is she pondering?_ He slowly turned his head and looked at her – his hands continuing to play the piece. _My God, she is beautiful._ Angelina could never be Christine in his eyes – not any longer. The angel of music that he once had was grown and happy in life.

There was a new angel of music – powerful and passionate. Angelina could be sensual and everything he never expected. Erik would bring the _true_ Angelina to the surface. She deserved to be in the light and she would be. However, if she deserved to be with him remained to be seen.

"Are you going to stand there all day or will we accomplish something?"

Instinct guided her to the organ and Erik's side. A new day was dawning. But little white lies haunted them both. One refused to tell the truth about their past while the other refused to tell secrets of their past. Would it separate them and hurt them more then they could imagine? Neither knew or cared. In the present time, they were both happy. What would happen in the future would remain there. For now, the music would fill them both and would lead them on a journey neither one would forget.


	26. The Dance of Angels

**A/N: I wasn't going to post today since it is my birthday, but I decided to anyway. I love this chapter and I hope you do too. Please read and review. I love that new people are starting to read as well. Pass the word! LOL! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 25 – The Dance of Angels**

The stage was barren as was the seats in front of it. Several torches and candles lit the room but not enough to make a mark. Very little could be seen in the darkness but Angelina had learned to adjust her eyes. She was becoming accustomed to the dark and had made it her second home.

She was comfortably dressed – slacks and a shirt that her father had given her. When she practiced her dance routines, she always dressed comfortably so that she could move with ease. The thought of someone watching her, so 'underdressed' made her uneasy but she knew only one person was watching…

_Erik...

* * *

_

It was early in the morning when she rose. Her had had been full of pain as she watched Madam Giry's company continue to practice for Faust. Brigitte continued on her tirade of making sure that Angelina knew that Brigitte was the lead and not her. On this particular morning, it did not affect her.

Her thoughts had turned to Erik and how he told her that she was not her mother. It had made her happier then he could have ever imagined. Nothing could touch her. She was floating on air. Even Gabriella and Rene had asked her what was wrong. She could not answer them. If they found out that Erik had given her hope and assurance, they would think her mad.

Soon after the practice, Rene offered to take her to lunch, which she would not decline. They talked about many matters and she had told Rene of some of the things she had done in her childhood. She was not the well mannered child everyone had thought her to be. She was actually quite unruly and would hardly ever listen to her teacher or her parents. It wasn't until she was in her teens did she grow and learn.

Rene made her happy when he was around her. Angelina and he had grown to be quite good friends. It was her fortune to have her there in Paris with her.

It was after the lunch and the torture of watching the company practice once again, that she returned to her room. She quickly let her hair down and was beginning to get ready for her own practicing when she noticed a note sticking out of the mirror.

_He's never left it in that manner before._

Removing it from its home, she began reading the letter from her teacher:

_Dearest Angelina,_

_Tonight you will practice on the stage. I know you grow tired of the lair and I will give you a rest from it. You will dance for me tonight and we will begin a routine in which you will perform for the managers for the next auditions. Not only will you receive the lead as singer but dancer as well. You will not be denied._

_Come prepared to work, Angelina. There is much to be accomplished._

_Erik_

Sighing, she put the note on the table. There was no rest for the weary. There was not a night this week that she had not practiced. It was either her voice or her dancing. Tonight, once again, she would dance for him. She refused to disappoint him again. So with much strength and will, she began to get ready for her next lesson.

* * *

The slippers dangled from her hand, unsure if he had wanted them on her feet. It was the white pair he had given her only a few weeks prior. They were already worn. He did not know they had become her favorite pair. Angelina loved how the ribbons crossed and tied just below her knee. They were special and unique, unlike any she had seen before. 

_Maybe he thinks I am special and unique._

She smiled at the thought of it. _I am not my mother after all._ What did it matter? Erik had only seen her a few times – watching from the wings. But she held onto the thought that she was special and unique. If she thought that, she would continue to work hard to prove that she was.

"You will not need the slippers."

His voice came from the darkness that surrounded her. Angelina put the shoes down as she watched Erik slide from the darkness. _How does he do that?_ Every time he came to her all she could do was watch him walk with grace and style. His long legs carried him over to her in several steps.

Erik looked upon her. She was not dressed as she normally was. The pants were tight but not constricting. They would serve his purpose.

"Come to me."

He held out his hand and she took it. Spinning her into his arms, Angelina let out a small scream. He smiled at her as she looked up at him.

"No practicing tonight."

She looked at him, bewildered. "But you had said…"

"Tonight there will be no practicing."

Without warning, he scooped her up and swung her around. It was not a scream of terror that escaped her lips but a scream of happiness. He gently put her down and looked at her.

"You are tired."

"You taught me a lot this week."

"Which is why tonight we will be performing for each other."

"I do not understand."

Erik knelt down in front of her as she looked down at him.

"Spin."

"Pardon me?"

"Spin."

Angelina pirouetted away from Erik. She spun and spun until she collapsed onto the floor. Erik laughed causing Angelina to glare at him.

"You find that amusing?"

"I thought you would only spin once. I did not expect you to pirouette into the night."

"I would like to see you spin."

"Alright."

She watched as Erik rose to his feet. Not trained in ballet, Erik did his best to pirouette. It wasn't until Angelina burst into laughter did he know he was doing it wrong.

"I can see that you might be able to command and teach me in ballet but you cannot do it yourself."

Erik laughed as she continued to. "I have not…"

His laughter stopped. Angelina looked at him, curiously, and crawled over to him.

"What is it?"

"I have not laughed in a very long time, if at all."

He sounded like a child. Angelina's heart ached for him. Without laughter there was no happiness. She would not have survived her life if Alexander had not made her laugh or if her father did not make jokes the made no sense. It was laughter that made her life memorable.

"Then laugh. You have much to make up for."

She stood and held out a hand. A single tear rolled down his unmarred cheek. He took her hand and stood in front of her.

"I think it is time I taught you."

Placing his right hand in hers and his left arm on her hip, she locked eyes with him.

"What are we doing?"

"We are going to dance."

It took some time and many near falls before Erik had finally realized they were ballroom dancing. Angelina floated with grace and Erik fumbled. She finally stopped and looked at him.

"You are trying to hard."

"I am not accustomed to this."

"You do not have to be. You must follow my lead. It is not like a woman to be the leader but until you learn, you follow me."

"I am not used to taking commands either."

"Welcome to the start of a new life."

_A new life._ He smiled and let her guide him around the stage once again. It was a lesson he had never learned: trust. Madam Giry had saved him so many years ago. She had been the only person he had ever trusted. But Angelina was beginning to gain his trust as well. She had been nothing but kind to him but of course she did not know the real him. Angelina had never seen his scarred flesh.

He pulled away from her once again. The thought of her reaction repulsed him and he could not bear to look at her. The sobs racked his body but suddenly stopped once he felt a gentle hand on his back.

"Please, do not cry. It was not my intention to hurt you."

"You have not hurt me, Angelina. It is I who will hurt you."

Erik turned and faced her. The look of confusion on her face made it that much harder for him to look at her.

"Why?"

"It…I…"

He could not tell her. Not now. He smiled and put a hand to her face. In one fluid motion, he picked her up once again and spun her. She smiled and laughed. Her laughter filled his heart and his soul. It truly was a new life.

Gently setting her down, Angelina sat down on the stage floor and looked up at Erik.

"I am tired of taking center stage alone."

"It is your destiny."

"And yours."

He laughed and shook his head. "Foolish girl."

"Why am I foolish? You deserve to be in the spotlight as much as I do."

"I can never be in the spotlight."

"Because you will not allow yourself to be."

She quickly jumped to her feet and began running into the darkness. Erik watched her go, confused by her actions.

"Where are you going?"

"I will be back in a moment's time."

That moment seemed like an eternity. It was not until a bright light shown on the stage did Erik finally figure out what Angelina was doing. It was only minutes after the light hit the stage when Angelina returned to it as well.

"What have you done?"

"If you will not be in the spotlight in public, then you will be in the spotlight in my presence." She gestured to the brightest part of the stage. "The stage is yours."

She watched as he walked into the light. He grimaced from the brightness of it but quickly adjusted. Erik looked back at her and decided it was time. He held out a hand.

"Join me."

Her hand hesitated but took his. Both of their hearts were racing as he brought her to him. He stood behind her and brushed back her hair.

"Sing for me, Erik."

Her plea caught his heart. Don Juan came to him in waves and he did not want her to know that it truly was him. Remembering another song, his arms wrapped around her waist and drew her closer to him.

"Floating, falling…sweet intoxication!"

Her hands slowly covered his. Without thought or reason, he entwined their fingers and began gently rubbing her stomach. Angelina's eyes closed from both his voice and his touch.

"Touch me, trust me…"

He slowly brought her hand up to his face. Her hand lingered there as his hand began down her arm and the side of her body. He was drinking her in. If she had been wine, he would have been intoxicated by now.

"…savour each sensation! Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write – the power of the music of the night."

She turned to him and looked at him. Passion filled both of their eyes. Music echoed through the night. No one but them could hear it or feel it. Neither could move nor speak. Her other hand slowly began its way to his mask. Her hand caressed it but Erik grabbed her hand before she could remove the mask.

"Please." It was a single plea filled with desperation. He did not want it to sound that way but fear consumed him and took over.

Seeing the pain in his eyes, Angelina removed her hand and nodded. "As you wish."

He brushed back a lock of hair from her face and looked at her. _An angel. That is all she is. She is an angel._

"You must get some sleep."

The words stung her. Once again she felt as though she were dying inside. She did not want to leave him. Erik made her happy and she could not tell him – afraid he would leave her for good.

"I am not tired."

Erik smiled. Putting a hand to her face, he smiled wider. "Tomorrow night we will begin rehearsals again. Faust is being performed tomorrow and you must be ready for auditions."

"Of course."

He slowly began into the darkness. She watched him go but her heart refused to acknowledge him leaving. The darkness enveloped him before her heart finally succumbed to the fact that he would not return to her.

Her dreams would be full of happiness and passion. She denied herself by telling Jonathan that she would think of his proposal. She loved one man and one man alone…

_Erik…_


	27. The Unforseen Happiness of a Young Diva

**A/N: You guys might be disappointed because there is no Erik in this chapter. _Runs and hides..._ Sorry! But I hope that this chapter is a bridge for the next part of my story. I hope you like it. As always, read and review. I love to hear it all.**

**Chapter 26 – The Unforeseen Happiness of a Young Diva**

The last of the rehearsals for Faust finished before noon. The set designers and costume designers were hard at work finishing up the last of whatever needed to be done. The stage was fully lit and ready to begin the production.

A lone dancer remained on stage. Her steps graceful and full of life. Every step gave light to each feeling that she possessed within her soul. No sounds were made from the wood within her slippers. Her legs seemed to never tire as she continued around the stage – pirouetting and jumping.

Two figures watched her from the wings. Meg noticed how different she was acting while her mother knew something else was going on.

"Meg, you must find out why she is so happy."

"Why should we disturb that? She is happy, mother. Let her be."

"I fear that something will come over her and disturb her happiness."

"She is engaged to be married. She could simply just be happy about that."

Madam Giry very highly doubted that. Something was going on with Angelina and she had a feeling that she knew who it was. It was not Jonathan as Meg had hoped it to be. Erik was somehow involved with Angelina and he was possessing her mind as he once did Christine. She would not let Meg know, the news would go straight back to Christine.

"Find out, my child, for my sake."

"As you wish."

Meg began out from the wings and watched as Angelina completed her last pirouette and fell to the floor. Her laughter echoed throughout the opera house. Meg smiled, having Angelina laugh for the first time in a long time.

"You seem happy."

Angelina's head turned and saw Meg walking toward her. She quickly jumped to her feet and watched as Meg stepped in front of her.

"It warms my heart to see you that way."

"Thank you, Madam."

"I am sorry about Faust tonight."

"It is long passed. I will try for the new opera."

"Ambitious I see. What has changed your heart?"

Angelina's smile slowly disappeared from her face. She did not want to tell Meg what it was that made her so happy and so full of life. She feared if she told Meg that Erik would disappear, never to return. He made her want to do things that she had never dreamed possible. Her self-confidence was restored by just the mere touch of his hand.

"Brigitte, Madam. I do not wish to see her dominate another opera as she has done Faust. I have heard many of the dancers complain of her manner."

"I have heard that as well. They believed you were more then capable for the part."

"They have told me on several occasions."

"Is there another who has said this to you?"

Erik, once again, came to mind. Angelina longed to tell someone about him. About how happy he made her. This was neither the time nor the place. "No, Madam."

"What of the young suitor who has shown up on several occasions – Monsieur de Wynter?"

Angelina had hoped that Meg would not bring up Jonathan's name. Her hopes were shattered. Somewhere in her heart there was a place for him. But the rest of her longed to be away from him and with someone else. Whatever love there was between them as children no longer remained.

"I am sure he has mentioned it."

"He is not the one who brings happiness to your life?"

"He makes me happy, Madam."

Meg watched as sadness crossed over her eyes. She was certain that Jonathan was the one who brought the smile to Angelina's face. How could she have been so wrong? Who had made the sad young woman into a happy young diva?

"My dear, who has made you so happy if it is not the suitor that comes to you?"

"It is no one, Madam."

Madam Giry watched as Angelina turned from Meg. She now knew what she had feared most – Erik had captured her. However, the love in her eyes was not like Christine. No, this child saw Erik in a different light. She did not see him as the hideous monster that everyone claimed him to be. Angelina saw him as a true angel. The only question remained: did she ever see Erik without the white mask that was upon his face?

Meg saw Angelina turn from her and her posture change. _What secret could she be hiding from me?_

"Angelina, you have told me everything your entire life. Why are you holding back now?"

"I…it is not one, Madam. I swear it to you."

"You are lying."

"Madam, I…" Angelina turned to Meg, tears streaming down her cheeks. She wished Meg would not ask her any more questions. Her heart could take no more. She hated to lie to her mother's best friend, but she had little choice. "I would never lie to you."

"Then you cry out of what?"

"Fear."

"Fear of what?"

"Of your disappointment in me. I cannot tell you why I am happy. I just am."

"I am not disappointed, Angelina." Meg walked up behind the child and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I just wish you would not hide things from me."

"I hide nothing from you, Madam."

"Then why fear me?"

Madam Giry knew the answer to that question. Once word got to Christine of Erik still being alive, Angelina would not see him again. That would break her heart more then leaving Paris.

"Please, Madam, do not ask me any more questions." She turned to Meg and looked at her. "I must go. You have preparations for Faust to do. I have songs I must learn for the next audition."

"This discussion is not over, Angelina."

"Please, there is nothing else to say. I am happy and let it be left at that."

Angelina slowly pulled away from Meg and began to walk away. Meg now heard the sound of sadness from her ballet slippers on the wooden stage. Madam Giry moved from the wings and watched as Angelina walked away, head hung low.

"If it is not Jonathan, then who?"

"Maybe she is just happy as she claims to be."

"Nothing in her life has gone her way since she arrived. What would make her so happy now?"

"Mystery is a part of life, Meg. You are not the one to unravel it."

"She is my goddaughter, mother. I am her keeper when Christine and Raoul are not around."

"But you are not her confidant. Her confidant is God and God alone. You cannot force her to reveal her feelings to you."

Meg knew her mother was right. Angelina was a loner ever since she was born. Alexander brought very little out of her when they were children. She would write and read as much as she could. Other children would ask her to play but she would not have it. The only person she trusted was her father…

"Oh my God. Why did I not think of it?"

"Of what, Meg?"

"I must go."

Madam Giry watched as Meg quickly ran across the stage. _What could she possibly have thought of?_ She feared of what Meg had thought of. _This could only mean trouble.

* * *

_

Meg sat her desk with a piece of parchment and a quill. Her hand flew across paper and smudged several words and letters as she continued on. She had to write it as quick as possible to have it reach him in time.

Holding up the piece of paper, Meg read it one final time.

_Dear Raoul,_

_I send this letter to you with the utmost urgency. I beg of you not to tell Christine that I have written to you. I need you to come to Paris as soon as possible._

_Angelina, I fear, is holding a secret from all of us. I do not know what it is and I have tried to have her talk to me about it. Raoul, I know she will tell you. She trusts you and loves you like any daughter would a father. But you and Angelina hold a special bond and I hope that you can bring whatever secret she holds to the surface._

_Do not tell Christine you are coming to Paris. You will scare her and take Angelina from the life she has come to grow and love. I just hope you can help Angelina before it is too late._

_With love,_

_Meg_

Quickly folding the letter and putting it into an envelope, Meg sealed it and addressed it. In a few days time the Vicomte de Chagny would return to Paris and help his only daughter. Meg only hoped it was not too late.


	28. Daddy's Little Girl

**A/N: Ok, I decided to post this a little early. I know the last chapter was a little dull, but I swear it was for a purpose. I hope you guys like this chapter. I'm writing chapter 38 and the action builds. Enjoy! Read and review. I love to hear what you guys think.**

**Chapter 27 – Daddy's Little Girl**

Most of the dancers and stage hands were gone. The managers had seen to it that before the next big production that there would be a day of rest. Gabrielle and Rene had disappeared, leaving Angelina alone in the opera house.

It had been several days since the last performance of Faust. Bridgette had received nothing but rave reviews. It had not taken her long to boast about it in Angelina's presence. Whatever Bridgette said to Angelina was ignored. It did not faze her any longer.

She sat on the stage, pondering what was to come. Would she become the next lead in the newest opera? Would she continue to be just a dancer for the rest of her life? Would her life ever stop soaring to the heavens every time Erik was around?

Angelina knew in her heart that she loved Erik with every fiber of her being. There was nothing no one could say or do to change her mind. Whatever love was in her heart for Jonathan was no longer there.

There was only one problem: she could not find the courage to tell him. There was nothing left with Jonathan and she could not tell him. Nor could she tell Erik the feelings that she forced to lie dormant. It was a raging battle that she could not longer ignore. There were too many emotions inside of her that needed to not only be contained but satisfied.

"Lost in thought?"

Angelina's eyes slowly widened at the sound of her father's voice. Slowly turning her head, she saw her father standing there smiling down upon her.

"Father?"

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

She shook her head. Raoul sat beside her. He had been watching her for several moments before choosing to speak. There were days were Angelina looked exactly like her mother and then there were days she looked like him. This was a day that she looked like him. Lost in thought, he could see the wheels in her mind turn and spin.

Meg's letter had reached him in due speed. And as asked, he did not reveal to Christine for the hasty return to Paris. Christine protested his return but the concern in Meg's letter made him want to leave sooner then he did. His daughter was his life and whatever it was that concerned her, needed to be resolved.

"I hear Faust went well."

"Bridgette has seen to tell me that on several occasions."

"You will be the lead in the next opera."

"So I have been told."

There was a sadness in her voice that he had never heard before. It worried him to no end. "Do you want to tell me what is bothering you?"

"No."

"Angelina, you cannot hold whatever it is that you are hiding inside you for long. It will tear you apart."

"You will not understand."

"Jonathan told me he asked you for your hand in marriage."

That was it. Angelina broke down in her father's arms. Her sobs would not stop. Every fiber of her being was being put out before her. The feelings for Erik, the loss of love for Jonathan, the hurt of not being who she always wanted to be. It was all there out in the open.

"Angelina, please talk to me. You have never held anything from me before."

"This is different."

"How?"

"I think I am in love."

* * *

High in the rafters, Erik looked down at Raoul holding Angelina. He had watched her pace the stage long before the Vicomte had approached her. Her stance had been sad and detached. It pained him to see her in the state she was in.

"I think I am in love."

That one statement rocked Erik to the core. _I think I am in love_. It could not have been the boy. She had hardly written or spoken to him. Her days and nights were filled either in his lair or on the stage. Erik was constantly with her – morning, noon, and night.

"Jonathan?"

"No, someone else."

His heart stopped. _Could it be me?_ Could the young girl he had been teaching be in love with a hideous monster like him?

"Who is it?"

"I cannot say. I do not love Jonathan, father. Something happened. Maybe I grew up but I cannot love him."

* * *

Raoul now understood his daughter's heartache. She had fallen in love with someone else and did not have the heart to tell Jonathan. Jonathan would of course be heartbroken, but it would be more painful for him to be in a relationship with Angelina not loving him in return.

"Tell Jonathan."

"I cannot."

"You cannot fear to talk to him. If you do not tell him now, this charade will go on forever."

"I will break his heart."

"If you do not break it, it will never heal."

Her tear filled eyes looked into her father's. He was right – as always. In order for Jonathan to move on with his life, she would need to break his heart. To be free to love the one person she truly did, she would have to break hers as well.

"Does this man you love, love you in return?"

"I do not know."

* * *

Erik wanted to scream he loved her from the rooftops. But before he could, his thoughts began to change. Erik had watched as his assistant had grown quite attached to his pupil. Their bond grew more and more every day.

_She loves Rene._

His happiness slowly diminished. She was in love with Rene. _It is not me._ Why would she love a masked freak when she could love a talent like Rene? His temper flared as he turned and began to walk away.

* * *

"Have you discussed it with him?"

"I cannot."

"Angelina, is there anything that you can do?"

She smiled, knowing exactly what she could do. "I can sing for him."

* * *

"I can sing for him."

Erik stopped in mid-step. His gaze slowly turned back to Angelina.

"He has heard you sing?"

"On more then one occasion."

"Like I was with your mother."

"I think it is quite different, father."

"Does he have a name?"

_Do not say it, Angelina. Please, do not mutter my name…_ He assumed it was him once again. Cursing to himself, he continued to watch the scene unfold.

"Does it matter?"

"A curious father's mind wants to know."

Angelina's laugh filled his ears. A smile formed on his face.

"He does. But he does not know that I like him. I wish it to remain that way."

"You think that I would run and tell him?"

"I doubt it. But I do not want anyone else to know."

"I understand."

The naïve Vicomte had no idea about any of it. Erik laughed to himself. He still did not understand why Christine had married the Vicomte. It was not a wise choice.

* * *

"Father, please do not ask me any more questions."

The look on Angelina's face was priceless. It made him laugh. He loved his daughter with everything that he had. Raoul gently kissed her on the forehead.

"Fine, but it is against my better judgment."

"Do not tell mother. She will try to convince me to be with Jonathan."

"You have my solemn vow, I will not tell your mother."

"Pinky swear?"

She held out her pinky. It was an old tradition shared by them. His linked with hers.

"Pinky swear."

There was a bond there that neither could deny. Angelina loved her father. But there was another love in her heart now. Still afraid to tell anyone about Erik, she would keep it a secret until she could no longer.

"I am in Paris for the night. May I treat the newest star to dinner?"

Angelina's smile brightened his heart. Meg had worried him that it would be more then what Angelina had revealed. His daughter was in love and there was nothing he could do about it. He only hoped that the man she had fallen for treated her as any man should. His daughter was his pride and joy. No one would break her heart without some pain in return.


	29. From Student to Equal

**A/N: Hello to all! I'm so glad to see new readers. I just wanted to address some of my comments (I do read them). Rene's last name is pure coincidence. DuBois is a last name I love. I'm not sure how close this really is to the original. I think Angelina is more in tune to Erik then Christine. Raoul is a great confidant in this. But I assure you, things will change. And I'm glad that you guys like that I update quickly. I'm trying to keep ahead so you don't have to wait for chapters. Please, keep reading and reviewing. I love to hear it all. In the meantime, enjoy the next chapter!**

**Chapter 28 – From Student to Equal**

Erik sat at his organ. His usual music did not fill the air. It was not dark and sensual – but vibrant and full of life. Angelina did not love Jonathan as he once feared she had. Rene was a different story. If she truly did love Rene, he would be happy for her. At least Rene was someone he approved of. Rene was not snide and a complete snob. There was a bond there that Erik could not deny. They were well matched, as much as it disappointed him to say it.

But he felt free. There was light in his life for the first time since he had been set free from the carnival. Although he chose to live in darkness, it was lighter then the torture he had suffered. He was beaten almost every night and laughed at with no remorse. It was Madam Giry who had shone him the way. The debt would never be repaid. She had saved him and brought him from the darkness and into a new life.

"Erik?"

His head quickly turned and saw Angelina standing there. The smile on her face made his heart swell. He had not even heard her walk into the lair.

"Am I disturbing you?"

"Not at all. I was just finishing this piece that I have been working on for the past few hours. I cannot seem to get it done."

She giggled. "Then I am a distraction. I should go…"

Before she could turn and leave, Erik grasped her wrist. Their eyes met.

"Please do not go. You are inspiration, not a distraction."

"You compliment me when you should not."

"The lead of the newest opera should always be complimented."

Angelina had wanted it to be a surprise. Bridgette had to leave Paris on unexpected business. Angelina had been cast as the newest lead. It was a fluke, but Angelina took the role with pride.

"I had wanted to surprise you."

"All of the rumors and news of the opera house finds me in due course. Do not think I would not hear of my pupil receiving the lead."

She blushed. "Then you are happy?"

"I am pleased, yes."

His long legs helped him stand in front of her. Angelina could not tell what his emotions were. His previous statement was not what she was hoping to hear. _He is pleased! That is all he is – pleased?_

"I…"

"You have missed out on some lessons. I have been worried."

She cringed. Between the auditions and the rehearsals, she had been lax in her lessons. Her body and mind had grown tired. By the time she was through, she had no patience left for her lessons.

"I am sorry, Erik. I have been…"

"Tired?"

"Yes."

Erik finally noticed that she was holding her hands behind her back. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

"Angelina…"

"It is nothing. If all you are is _pleased_ that I am the new lead, then I have nothing."

Erik peered behind her back. In her hands was a small box tied with a ribbon. "What is that?"

"It is nothing."

Her arm rose, like she was about to throw it. His hand gently touched her arm.

"It must be something."

"It is a gift."

"For who?"

"Is there another man who lives down here?" Her eyes twinkled. There was laughter behind them. Erik's gaze stopped her from laughing aloud. "It is for you."

"You bought me something."

"A token of gratitude."

"No one has ever bought me anything."

She held the box in front of him. Erik's eyes looked like a child's. It pained Angelina to see him like that. He had never been treated to a gift or a show of appreciation by anyone. Angelina would be the first to show him that someone cared.

"Please, open it. I had it made special."

Shaky hands took the box. Erik sat on the bench once again, afraid his legs would collapse. Untying the ribbon, he slowly lifted the lid. His gasp came from utter shock of what was inside.

"Where did you get this?"

"I found a costume shop, in the middle of the city. I had the owner make one special."

His large hands brought out the contents of the box – a black opera mask. It was a perfect match to the one he wore on his face already. It was beautiful and was unlike anything he had ever seen.

"Angelina, I have no idea what to say."

"For once, the teacher is speechless."

There were no words for Erik to mutter. The kind act would not go unnoticed.

"What have I done to deserve this?"

"You are Erik, my great opera teacher. The man I respect and have utter admiration for."

Erik watched her kneel down in front of him.

"Do you like it?"

"I am truly amazed."

Her tiny hands covered his. The warmth from her body radiated through him, making the fire inside of him grow even greater then it already was.

"I hope that one day you will trust me enough to show me what is behind the mask." Her voice was barely above a whisper. Tears were beginning to form in her eyes. "I am not afraid to show my scars."

Erik slowly looked at her. A tear ran down her pale cheek. His ungloved hand wiped it gently away.

"You do not bare scars, my child."

Angelina laughed to herself. She had been hiding this secret from almost everyone that she knew. Maybe it was time to tell someone.

"I have a large scar, right above my heart." Pulling down the top of her dress, Erik faintly saw the beginning of a scar. "My mother told me that I had problems with my heart when I was born…"

He did not want to hear the suffering of another. It pained him to know that she bore a scar let alone went through the agony of surgery.

"She told me I was close to death and that the doctors did surgery." Angelina gently took his hand and placed it on her heart. "It is still intact and full of life and love. But the scar I bear is not a small scar. The incision they had to make went half way down my chest. I have to look every day in the mirror at it."

"I know the pain of looking in the mirror and seeing something you know was not supposed to be there." He began to take off his mask but Angelina's hand stopped him. "Why are you stopping me? I thought you told me you were unafraid?"

"You are showing me out of pity. I want you to show me when you are ready. I know you are not."

He quickly retracted his hand and stood. Angelina watched Erik turn his back to her. She had hurt him and had not meant to.

"Erik, I did not stop you to be mean. I stopped you because I knew you were not ready."

"You do not know what I think, Angelina. You are afraid to see what is behind the mask."

"On the contrary, I am not afraid of what is behind the mask. I am more afraid of what is in your heart."

The rage inside of him slowly died right after she finished her statement. His head slowly turned and Erik looked at the angel before him. Her eyes were so innocent and her soul so pure. He should have never let her know he existed. He was better off without her. She would leave too, just as Christine had.

"You need to go."

"I am not leaving."

"Why must you torture me?"

"Why must you torture yourself? You send me away as though I am going to hurt you in some way. I assure and promise you that I will not walk away from you."

"You say that to me now. But what happens when someone fills your heart. What happens when you finally marry Monsieur de Wynter?"

"That will not be happening. I will be breaking off the engagement."

Erik tried not to smile. He had already known the news. But to hear it said from her mouth to his ears, made him want to smile even more then he already had. "I am sorry to hear that."

"Another fills my heart." Angelina decided in that moment it was not time to tell him. She could not. "Maybe he will find out, some day."

"Possibly."

Angelina stood. "The hour is late and I must return to my room."

Erik watched as her small footsteps brought her petite frame to him. The height difference was great. He was at least a head taller then her. Standing on tiptoes, Angelina gently brushed her lips against his unmarred cheek. They lingered there for a moment, as if afraid to let go. Before his arms could capture her waist, she pulled away.

"Would you bring me home?"

A scream escaped her lips as Erik picked her up – no words said. Angelina snuggled against his large frame, reveling in the warmth and strength of his body.

_I love you, Erik._

She wanted to tell him so badly. Angelina hoped that the mask would be the beginning of an insight into the depths of how far she would go to be with him and make him happy. There was fear in her heart. _What if he does not love me back?_ It was a very distinct possibility that the teacher did not love the student and all she would ever have was a crush.

Erik gently placed her in the boat and pushed off from the shore. They rode in silence. His mind was full of thoughts he never thought he'd possess. The mask was a token of affection. Maybe she truly did like him in ways he did not understand. Erik still feared that Angelina did not love him the way he had hoped. There was true devotion and possibly love.

Only time would tell. The student feared that the teacher did not love her. And the teacher feared that the student did not love him. Heaven and earth would find a way to bring the two souls together. It was only a matter of time.


	30. PassionDesire

**A/N: This one is a little different. Please bear with it. It leads into the next chapter and has a purpose. I hope you like it. Please read and review as always. I love to hear it.**

**Chapter 29 – Passion…Desire…**

It had been two weeks since Angelina had given him the black opera mask. He had yet to wear it. There were times he would just hold it in his hands and stare at it. The gesture was so innocent that it pained him to know it came from a child that had no feelings toward him then that of a student/teacher relationship.

But Erik loved her just the same. He was afraid to put on the mask, destroying the beauty it had with the horror behind the one he already bore. It had been days since he had eaten. His work consumed him more then usual. He was bound and determined to finish the opera he was writing. It was nearing completion and was driving him mad with the final touches not coming into place.

Erik walked near the water's edge, not even noticing the dizziness that overtook him. He grasped his head in pain. Before Erik could react, he was falling into the never ending abyss of darkness.

* * *

Music filled the air as Erik slowly opened his eyes. The setting was unfamiliar. It frightened him, although he would never admit it. He was on a barren stage, with lights shinning everywhere. Music surrounded him. It did not make him feel at peace. In fact, it made his fears grow even worse.

"Where am I?"

"That depends…"

Slowly turning, Erik watched as a figure began into the light. The figure was small in size but graceful all the same. He recognized the voice but did not believe it to be true.

"…on where you want to be." Angelina stepped into the light. Erik's breath caught at the sight of her. She smiled as she gestured to the stage. "All your life you have longed to be here. And now here you are."

"Has something happened to me?"

"In a sense."

"And you are truly not here?"

"I am always here with you. You will me to be here."

"This is a dream?"

"In a sense."

Erik was beginning to grow angry with his questions not being answered. Was it truly Angelina standing in front of him?

"You will not answer me?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because you do not want me to."

"How can you say that? I am asking you the question. Why would I not want you to answer?"

"Your mouth speaks for you. Your heart does not."

He stepped toward her, closing the distance between them. His heart longed for her and not the answers he sought. Angelina stood there, as if she already knew what he was thinking.

"You will not run from me?"

"No."

"Then come to me."

Erik stopped walking and held out a bare hand. She did not hesitate and took it. Using force, Erik turned her to him and held her tight against his chest. Her heart did not quicken – a response he was not expecting.

"You want this?"

"Yes, Erik. I am afraid to tell you what is in my heart."

"This is a dream."

"Then live your dream. Why deny yourself the pleasure of being with me even in your dreams?"

Angelina was right. He had been denying himself the pleasure of even thinking of her in his dreams. Erik longed for her unlike anything he ever had before. Christine was an obsession. Angelina…Angelina was…

"…love?"

Erik felt her guide his hands over her body. She sighed as he continued on his own with a torturing pace.

While his hands continued over her body, setting her skin on fire, Erik gathered the courage to finally tell her what he had been longing to for a long time.

"Angelina, there is something I wish to tell you."

"I am yours, Erik. There is no need to tell me anything."

His hands grasped her waist and she let out a small scream as Erik turned her to face him.

_She is so beautiful. How could she ever love someone like me? If she only knew the secrets I was hiding…_

"I love you." She had said it barely above a whisper.

Erik's eyes went wide as Angelina's smile beamed up at him. It was like a beacon in the darkness that surrounded him. It called to him and made him feel safe and loved. The three words he had been longing to hear, from anyone, were muttered from the lips of an angel.

There were no words that needed to be said. Erik scooped Angelina up into his arms and kissed her passionately. The darkness did not hold him at bay. It let him go and let him into the light – even if for a brief moment.

Erik felt her tiny arms around his neck as he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced her lips until she parted them to let it inside. He could hear her moan as he gently placed her back onto the ground. Erik's strong arms did not let her go. His hands began to explore her back and found her dress to be tightly tied.

The scenery changed around him. The stage was no longer a stage but his bedroom. And just behind them was his large bed. Erik's need was filling too quickly. Just the sight of Angelina made him go weak in the knees. He knew something was wrong. His mind was in some sort of delirium state. It was the only explanation that he would allow himself to have. He could not even begin fathom or comprehend the thoughts he had. All he wanted to do was take Angelina and claim her like he never had with Christine.

His lips trailed from her lips to her neck. Erik could feel her nails dig into his back. His hands quickly undid the hairpins in her hair. Angelina's hair fell loosely about her neck. His large hands caressed it and felt the silky strands upon each finger. Her neck was soft and inviting. His lips continued its torture as her sighs just continued to excite him.

Erik pulled away from her and noticed blood on her chest.

"Angelina?"

"All good things must come to an end."

It was as if it was in slow motion. Angelina fell to her knees. Erik rushed to her side and gathered her small frame in his arms. The blood continued to seep through her corset and dress. There was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Remember, I will always love you." Her eyes slowly shut as Erik began to rock her back and forth in his arms.

A voice in the distance began to call out…

"Erik…Erik!"

His tear filled eyes looked toward the sky.

_It is not possible. Angelina is dead. Is she calling out to me from heaven?_

"Erik, please wake up..."

Erik felt the darkness take a hold of him once more. It was as if he was falling into a never ending abyss of the night he so longed to be apart of again.

* * *

The fever would not break. All Angelina could do was cover Erik's forehead with a cool rag. He had tossed and turned most of the time she had been there. But it had grown violent and Erik had begun to scream. It frightened Angelina more then she could bear.

"Erik, please wake up…"

With a start, Erik sat up and screamed. He tried to fight Angelina's grasp but she would not let go of him.

"Erik, it was a dream! Erik, open your eyes!"

Erik's eyes flew open and looked wildly at Angelina. He wrapped his arms around her and held onto her as if his life depended on it.

"You are alive."

"Am I not supposed to be?" She was confused by his statement and hoped it was the fever talking.

He pulled back and looked at the angelic face in front of him. "Of course you are. I just…"

"It was nothing more than a dream. I assure you, Erik, I am very much alive."

"What happened to me?"

"I came for my lesson and I found you in the lake. It took all the strength in me to bring you in here."

Erik looked around and saw he was, indeed, in his own bed. He began to wonder how she had ever managed to bring him in there without help.

"Fever took over your body and it still does. I have not been able to relieve you of it."

"I am much better."

"Erik, you have been asleep for more then three days. I have stood vigil, afraid that you would slip deeper into the darkness that took you."

It took every sense that he had to take in what she had just said. Three days? It did not seem as though it had been three days.

"Madam Giry must have…"

"I have been going to rehearsal. But every spare moment I had I was here. I could not leave you alone. I feared that you might…"

A single tear rolled down her pale cheek. He wiped it away and looked upon her. Her radiant beauty shown brighter then any other night he had been with her. She had taken care of him without question or thought. Did she love him that much?

Tears began to form in Erik's eyes. Angelina looked at him in shock.

"Erik, why do you look as though you are about to cry?"

He could not express what he felt in that moment. No one had ever helped him as she had for three days. Madam Giry was a very large exception. He owed Madam Giry his life a hundred times over. Angelina had nothing to gain from the kindness she had shown him. He loved her more then anything and he could not tell her.

The hot tears that pooled streamed down his cheeks. He swore to himself that he would never cry in her presence but it was too much to bear. Angelina extended her arms and Erik fell into them as if he belonged there.

"The fever will break. I will stay until it does."

It was not the fever that brought the tears on. Erik refused to tell her it was the breaking of his heart and the tearing of his soul that brought them on. He could not tell her it was the longing of wanting to be with her that caused him to cry.

He would savor the embrace from her tiny arms. The embrace would carry him through the fever and through the torment of his heart. Angelina would be his saving grace and he would not let the love he possessed for her torture him any longer. He would let things flow as if nothing was going to happen. And if something did, all the better. Until then, Erik would keep the dream that he had to himself. He would live in the moment and that would be all he would need.


	31. How to Mend a Broken Heart

**A/N: I'm glad to see you guys liked the last chapter. It touched on some stuff that I felt needed to be touched on. I hope you guys like this one. As always, read and review. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 30 – How to Mend a Broken Heart**

The lair was full of light and music. The music would shake the walls if it could. The organ had never felt such passion behind the playing.

Angelina was taking the opportunity to brush up on her skills. Erik was still sleeping in the next room. His fever finally broke and she was more at ease now and not constantly by his side.

It had been three more days since he had woke. She briefly asked Madam Giry and Meg how to break a fever without giving anything away. The remedies they had given her worked. Erik was nearly at 100 percent again and Angelina could not have been happier.

The organ felt her happiness. The notes she played were filled with joy instead of the sorrow she once possessed. She had spent nearly a week alone with Erik. Angelina began to imagine what it would be like to spend eternity with him.

_Foolish thoughts by a foolish girl._

The thoughts made her smile. She had never felt so alive. Meg had told her, on several occasions, that her dancing had become more passionate and full of life. There was an explanation behind it but Angelina would not tell Meg. She would continue to keep Erik a secret until she truly had to tell someone.

Rene had also begun to notice her beam almost every time she took a step on stage. Her voice had begun to echo throughout the opera house. She had never been able to do that and Rene had complimented her on it. The conversation was brief but she would not soon forget it…

_You have life behind your voice today, Angelina._

_Do I?_

_Is there something you wish to discuss?_

_Rene, I am perfectly fine._

_Is it Jonathan?_

_Far from it._

_Then someone else occupies that heart of yours?_

_Someone does indeed._

_Do you want to tell me who?_

_No._

_Fine. Suit yourself. But I envy the man, Angelina. He is a lucky, lucky man._

Angelina would have never thought Rene to have been jealous of anyone. But he was more of a brother to her then anything. She loved him but not in the sense that everyone thought. Every waking moment, when she was not with Erik, she was with Rene. Erik and Rene were the two men who occupied her mind while her father and brother were back at home.

She was glad she had several people to protect her. It made her feel safe and loved. Erik was her knight and shining armor while Rene was her bodyguard. Both men would have no harm come to her. It made her feel warm inside.

"Can a man get some sleep?"

Her fingers slipped off of the keys. Erik's laughter echoed throughout the lair. Angelina turned to see Erik standing in the doorway of his bedroom. His black velvet robe was tightly wrapped around him. His hair was tussled but his mask was perfectly in place.

"I am sorry, Erik…"

"Mild humor, Angelina. I was up long before you started playing."

"How long were you listening?"

"Long enough to know you need to start practicing more."

Angelina was hurt by the statement. It had not been that long since she had played the organ. Teaching herself how to play was no small task. She knew she was not perfect but there was skill behind her playing.

She did not even notice him move from the doorway to the organ. The small space she had on the bench, he sat in. She moved over to give him some room.

"You should not be out of bed."

"I am fully recovered."

"So you say."

"I think I know when I am back to normal, Angelina. Trust me…" He began to show her how well he was feeling. His fingers glided over the ivory keys as if there had been nothing wrong with him. Music filled the air once again.

"You think playing the organ proves to me that you are well again?"

"Do you doubt it?"

"Erik, you could play this organ while you were unconscious. I do not doubt that you could still play it while you were ill."

Erik's hands snaked over to where Angelina's were. Taking her hands, he placed them on the keys in front of her.

"Play again."

"I am taking you to bed."

"This is rest for me. Play."

Angelina sighed and began to play the piece she had played only moments prior. His hands quickly covered hers and stopped them from playing.

"You are hitting the keys too hard. Your fingers should move fluidly over the keys. They are not beating on drums."

"I have been playing like this for years."

"But now you are in my presence. Trust me; the way you play is not the way an organ should be played."

The words were harsh but he needed to say them. Not only could she sing and dance, she had the ability to play the organ. But unlike her feet and her voice, her fingers were not as graceful as they should have been.

"Do you mean to say these words to hurt me?"

"I mean to say them to help you improve. In life, Angelina, there are great disappointments and heartache. I am not doing this to hurt you. I am doing this to show you that you can better yourself."

Angelina began to try again and again Erik's hands covered hers.

"What am I doing wrong now?"

Erik could hear the anger in her voice. "Begin playing again."

As Erik rose, the tie on his robe came undone and revealed his well sculpted chest. Angelina did not have enough time to see it as Erik stood behind her. His arms reached around and his hands hovered over hers.

"Go ahead and play."

Angelina could feel him lean against her and it distracted her for the briefest of seconds. She began playing again but this time Erik's hands did not stop her. They joined with hers, entwining their fingers. Her hands did not seem to touch the keys. They glided over them as if they were gliding through water.

_Fluid…_

"Can you feel the difference?"

Angelina could not find the right words. She was touched by the way she was making music and at the closeness of Erik's body.

"Angelina?"

"Yes, yes I feel the difference."

His hands lingered as Angelina finished the piece. He sat down beside her once again and looked upon her. Her eyes would not look at him.

"I need to tell you something, Angelina."

"You know you can tell me anything."

"I have had my heart broken…"

He watched as her eyes finally met his. This was not a conversation she was expecting. But Erik knew it was time to tell her.

"Erik, I do not think that you should…"

"She was beautiful and quite a talent in her day."

Angelina was not sure if she felt comfortable listening to his tale. Although she was concerned for him, she did not feel it was her right to hear.

"She left me for her childhood sweetheart."

Angelina's breath caught. It was much like her and Jonathan. The outcome, however, would not be the same. She would not be marrying Jonathan. Her heart belonged to Erik – even if he never found out.

"Erik, I know that I am not this woman. But if you are afraid that I will leave you because of Jonathan, you are mistaken."

It was Erik's turn to have his breath catch. His eyes did not break her gaze. There was no admittance of love but admittance of loyalty.

"I will not be leaving any time soon."

"I am glad. After all, who would be my student once you left?"

He would not admit to her it was love either. It was his secret to keep.

"Then the student/teacher relationship will remain. It is a promise I am willing to keep."

The hand that once claimed the organ was now outstretched in front of her. Instead of him just shaking it, he slowly raised it to his lips and kissed the back of it. Angelina did not have enough time to register the kiss before Erik spoke.

"Thank you, Angelina."

"Why are you thanking me?"

"For saving me. You brought me back from a fever and mended a broken heart. It is not an easy task."

The words he said touched her heart. She had not done it to save him. In fact, she did it to save herself.

"You are welcome."

They sat in the silence that seemed to surround them. Neither was willing to admit the feelings they had for one another. It was a secret both were willing to keep until their dying day.


	32. RSVP

**A/N: I assure you readers that this story is far from over. I hope that you enjoyed the last chapter. I know you want Angelina and Erik together but doesn't the chase seem better than for it just to happen? I hope you enjoy this chapter. Read and review as always.**

**Chapter 31 – R.S.V.P.**

The Opera Garnier was all abuzz with the latest rumors. Arnaud and Meg had a large surprise in store for everyone. Speculation had begun before the sun had risen that morning. Too many rumors were spreading and Angelina was hesitant to believe any of them.

Just one of many – the company was to begin a world tour beginning in New York. Even though it would be an honor and a thrill to be a part of it, Angelina failed to believe that was what they had to reveal. They had made it seem as though it was for everyone – the ballet company, the actors, and even the stage hands.

Rene poked her and she smiled at him. "What do you think they are going to tell us?"

"I wish I knew. The rumors have been spreading since early this morning."

"I hear it is because of the retirement of Madam Raineau."

Angelina looked at Rene with bewilderment. "She is retiring?"

"Her husband is ill back home. That is why she left so abruptly."

Angelina did not even know Brigitte was married. How someone could love someone as ill-tempered as Brigitte was beyond Angelina's comprehension. But she felt sorry for her, somewhere in her soul. Anyone suffering had made her feel bad – even if it was Brigitte.

Meg and Arnaud had seemed to come from the shadows. They faced the large crowd gathered on the stage.

Arnaud smiled and took Meg's hand. "Ladies and gentlemen…"

The crowd grew silent and focused their attention on Arnaud and Meg.

"As I have heard throughout the morning, it seems as though my wife and I have some news to speak of."

Rene and Angelina laughed. It was quite foolish how everyone was acting. But whatever was going to be said, it was exhilarating.

"One week from tonight, in the main hall, there will be a masked ball given."

The excitement could not be contained. Before Arnaud could finish his statement, the crowd grew in intensity. The reveal of a masked ball was something to look forward to. The crowd silenced themselves as Arnaud held up a hand.

"Anyone without a mask will not attend." Everyone laughed. "This will not deter from our normal everyday activities. I expect everyone to continue on with their duties as they normally would. Any spare time will be dedicated to getting ready. If there are any questions, please address them to myself or my beautiful wife."

Arnaud kissed Meg on the cheek before leaving her side. She turned back to the dissipating crowd. Rene and Angelina looked at one another.

"A masked ball?"

"This could not be any better."

Rene looked at her curiously. "And why is that?"

Angelina was at a loss for words. She had nearly told Rene about Erik without even speaking his name.

"Angelina?"

"I have never been to a masked ball."

Rene smiled and took her hand. "You will have a grand time. Women in elegant ball gowns and men dressed in fine tailored suits. It is the most spectacular sight on earth."

Her stomach began to fill with an unusual sensation. Quickly standing, Angelina looked down at Rene.

"I do not have rehearsals today. I think I will use my spare time to begin to get ready for the ball."

"I suggest, Angelina, that you pick the most beautiful gown you can find. It will pale in comparison to your beauty. Whoever will escort you will be the luckiest man in the world."

Angelina blushed as she moved from the stage. Rene had never spoken to her in that manner and it was something she was unaccustomed to. Although it was a sweet gesture, she knew that there would never be anything between them. She loved Erik and there was nothing that could sway her feelings on the subject.

The opportunity of a masked ball could not be overlooked. It was an amble opportunity for Erik to move into the public eye and not be seen. It was a perfect time for him to escort her to one of the most important events of her life.

_I only hope that he sees it the same way I do.

* * *

_

She descended the staircase as fast as her legs and feet would allow her. It did not seem to be fast enough. The torches seemed to mock her as she watched them flicker and dance around her.

Finally reaching the water's edge, she began to step into the boat…

"I thought I should meet you this time."

Being startled, Angelina began to fall toward the water. Erik quickly grabbed her by the waist, drawing her near. Not only did her breath catch, her eyes did as well. Erik's eyes looked upon her as if they were staring right through her.

"I have startled you again. I must refrain from doing that."

"Yes, you should."

He did not let go as he usually had during previous times. His hands lingered on her tiny frame, taking in every bit of her.

"You have come to see me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I had something to tell you."

"Such as?"

"A ball."

"A ball?"

She was being distracted by Erik's touch. Although he probably did not know it, everything she came to tell him was leaving her thoughts.

"Yes, a ball."

"As in something a child plays with?"

"No." She laughed. "No, not that sort of ball. A dancing ball."

"A very interesting concept."

"A masked ball, Erik."

His hands slowly moved from her waist to his sides. _A masked ball._ Erik remembered the last one he had attended. It did not fair well.

"And your purpose for telling me?"

"I wished for you to escort me."

Angelina watched as Erik's face tensed. He was growing angry and sorrowful at the same time.

"Erik?"

"You must find someone else to escort you."

"Why?"

"Because I cannot."

Erik turned from Angelina, hoping she would not see what was in his eyes or his heart. He longed to escort her to every ball to every museum and to every opera. He longed to be with her for all time…

"Erik, that is not an answer."

"Tell Rene to escort you."

Her heart stopped cold. _He believes I love Rene. Find some way to tell him, to show him…_

"Rene is not the man I want to be on the arm of."

"You will not be on mine."

He turned and looked into her tear filled eyes. Erik had broken her heart but he had little choice. He could not walk amongst them – free as she was.

"Please, I am asking you to escort me. No one will see you."

"Angelina, accept my answer. I will not be changing my mind."

Angelina slowly nodded her head not willing to accept it but having to. "Then I will accept it."

Looking at the looming staircase in front of her, she began up it. Erik watched her take each step.

"Angelina…"

She stopped but did not turn to face him. His heart broke.

"I am sorry that I cannot attend."

"As am I."

Angelina continued up the stairs – leaving Erik to his solitude.

* * *

Erik sat his organ – all inspiration fleeing from him. Rene stood behind him and watched his master sit at the organ. The once powerful man seemed smaller.

"You will escort Angelina to the ball."

The words pierced Rene's heart. He wanted to ask as to why but Erik stopped him.

"She requires someone I can trust. Since I will not be in attendance, I trust you to be with her."

"If I may inquire…"

Erik patiently waited for his protégé's question.

"Why do you wish for me to escort Angelina? She must have someone else she wishes…"

Erik's hands pounded on the organ. Rene jumped and slowly began to back away. Erik's angry eyes turned to Rene.

"Is she not worth your time?"

"That is not what I meant by the question."

"Is her stature not to your liking?"

"Erik, I am merely curious as to why…"

Erik stood, knocking over his bench. He began to slowly walk toward Rene. His anger was slowly beginning to rise.

"Angelina needs to be escorted by a gentleman. I thought that it was you. Am I to be mistaken?"

"No."

"You will escort her?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He stepped in front of Rene. The height difference was not much but enough that Rene felt small and insignificant.

"If you hurt her in anyway, you cannot understand pain until it is unleashed."

Rene swallowed hard – his breath caught in his throat.

"I understand."

"Now leave my sight."

Rene slowly left as Erik continued to fume. Once Rene left the confines of his lair, every emotion Erik had bottled inside was let out by a fierce scream. It rattled the rock walls and nearly shattered every pipe on his organ.

The pain in his knees could not be enough to feel what Angelina was feeling. His heart was slowly breaking piece by piece. He had wronged the one woman who had treated him with kindness and respect. All she had wanted was to be on the arm of the one man that she cared for.

Erik could not face the people who would be at the ball. Most would be noblemen who were there the night everything became hell to him. It was not something he wished to relive and to put Angelina through.

Rene would be a good substitute. But his mind kept going back to the sadness in her eyes and the pain in her heart. A single tear rolled down the unmarred side of his cheek.

_I cannot go, my love. Know that I am with you._


	33. The Irony of the Mask

**A/N: Just so you guys know, I have planned chapters 41, 42, and 43. I hope to write them soon. I might need to slow down my posting. I'm also trying to finish this other story I'm writing. I'll be posting it on FictionPress soon. I hope you guys will look for it. The Masked Ball comes out in full force in this one. I hope you guys enjoy. Please tell all your friends to read my story. Ok, sorry, cheap plug. Enjoy this chapter and please read and review as always.**

**Chapter 32 – The Irony of the Mask**

Candlelight filled the hall. It flickered and danced along with the music that played. Gold seemed to be the theme of the night as almost everyone seemed to be either dressed in it or decorated in it. Women bore elaborate jewels while the men stood back as other men looked at them – envious of what they had.

Rene stood in the doorway and looked at the sight before him. A smile slowly crept upon his face.

"Angelina, it is beautiful."

Glancing behind him, he held out a hand. A petite hand grasped it. Angelina stood beside him, looking out at the grand hall. Angelina took it all in – the music, the people, and the atmosphere.

"I do not want to be here, Rene."

Angelina had been melancholy ever since Rene had told her he would take her to the mask. He knew the reason but did not hint at it to Angelina. Erik refused to come and Angelina was suffering because of it.

"We will not stay long. You need to make a presence. You are the newest star of the new opera. Not making your presence known would be a mark on your reputation."

She knew that he was right. The gold mask she wore would hide her expressions and keep her emotions at bay. She would enjoy the night on Rene's arm and not think about what could have been with Erik.

"Shall we dance?"

Angelina smiled at Rene as he bowed in front of her. Dressed as a matador, Rene looked distinguished in a black mask and cape. Angelina grasped his hand as he led her to the floor and joined in with the other couples dancing.

She could not believe the sight before her. Everyone was in attendance. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meg and her mother along with Arnaud. They were deep in discussion about something and were hardly paying attention to anything going on around them.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

Angelina blushed. "No. And I am not beautiful. I just found this in the costume closet."

Rene laughed as he twirled her around the dance floor. He could see what Erik saw in her. Not only was she beautiful, she had humor and intelligence. They were rare qualities he found in women.

"You are rare, Angelina."

"How so?"

"You possess intelligence that I find very rare in women."

"Thank you."

"Whoever the man is that holds your heart is a very lucky man."

Angelina's heart stopped beating for a moment as the statement Rene said sunk in. The only reason Erik did not know he was lucky was, was that she never told him how she felt. Her heart would be broken even more so then the letdown of not coming to the mask. She would never tell Erik how she felt – never.

"He does not know he is a lucky man, Rene. I have never told him my feelings."

"May I ask why?"

"He would not reciprocate."

"You are certain of this?"

"I am."

He could feel her heart breaking. More then anything in the world, Rene wanted to shout from the rooftops of Erik's love. If it would ease the pain, he would tell her in a heartbeat.

"Angelina…"

"Please, Rene…I do not want to discuss this any longer. It is over. I am done trying."

"You cannot just give up."

"It is my choice. He does not need to know."

The tempo of the music changed to something darker, more sensual. Rene stepped back from Angelina and watched as the lights seemed to somehow dim.

_Erik…_

The crowd seemed to part without even knowing it was doing it. Down the stairs came a large figure. Rene watched as Angelina looked at him.

"Rene?"

"Let us keep dancing, shall we?"

Rene took Angelina once again in his arms, keeping her focus on him and bringing the crowd back into the mood they were once in. Rene knew that the focus needed to be off of Erik.

"I did mention that you looked beautiful tonight, correct?"

"Yes, you did."

"Then you did not say it in the correct manor."

Angelina's heart stopped. Afraid to turn her head, she watched Rene's look turn from happy to bewildered.

"And you are, sir?"

"The man who was to escort her tonight. I was…detained." A black leather gloved hand stretched in front of Angelina. "If I may reclaim the honor…"

Turning her head, Angelina looked into the eyes of Erik. Iridescent and illuminating, they drew her in – capturing her. Her gaze looked at him and noticed the black mask she had given him days prior.

"You…"

"Yes, I did."

"Angelina, are you alright with him?"

"She is perfectly fine, Monsieur. I assure you that."

Rene glanced at Angelina for one more brief moment before slowly walking away. Erik moved in front of her and looked at how beautiful she looked. The pale pink dress went well with the gold mask she wore upon her face. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the candlelight.

"That was Rene?"

"Yes, it was."

"Handsome young man."

"Yes, he is."

Her expressions showed nothing to Erik. He could not tell if she was angry, sad, or happy.

"I should have told you I was coming."

"The surprise was nice."

Her short statements were making Erik nervous. The hand was still outstretched and still empty.

"Will you not take my hand?"

"You have chased away my escort…"

Grasping her waist and taking no more time, Erik brought her to him. He leaned in close to her ear. He could hear her gasp for air.

"If you will not take my hand, then I will escort you the way I have to." Taking one hand, he grasped her waist but took a step back from her. He began guiding her around the dance floor – their gazes never leaving each other's. "This will be another lesson I must teach you."

"And what lesson would that be?"

"Obedience."

* * *

Madam Giry turned her attention from her daughter and her loving husband to gaze around the room. Everyone seemed to be having a grand time. But the sight of all black in a room full of gold and light colors caught her attention. 

_Erik…_

He was here, in the middle of everything. It had been years since he had been at a mask and it had not turned out well. But this was different. In his arms was…

_Oh my God. Angelina…_

Tilting her head to the side, she watched as the couple glided across the ballroom floor. Angelina seemed to fit well in his arms. For the first time in her life, she could have sworn she saw…

"He smiled…" Madam Giry nearly laughed out loud.

"Mother, did you say something?"

"No, my dear. Please, continue talking."

Before turning back to the conversation, she watched Erik and Angelina for another moment. She was starting to truly believe Erik was in love. It was just the hope that Angelina felt the same way about him.

* * *

Angelina did not know if it was just from her spinning or if something was wrong but she was growing dizzy. 

"Angelina?"

"I feel lightheaded…"

Angelina went limp in Erik's arms. She supported herself against his chest.

"Are you alright? Shall I take you to your room?"

"No! Erik, please I do not want this night to end."

Their eyes met once again. Standing up straight, Angelina rose on her toes and touched Erik's lips with hers. The touch was light like a feather and Erik hardly knew she had touched them. Before she could pull away, Erik drew her closer and made the kiss deeper. Adjusting for her height, he bent his head down, making it much more passionate.

The music reached a crescendo as Erik's arms wrapped around her tiny frame. He could not believe what he was doing. Neither knew who pulled away first but the feeling was there and so was the meaning behind it.

"Angelina…"

"I am so sorry."

"It was my fault." His eyes lowered, not wanting to meet her gaze.

The music did not help the situation as it usually had. It seemed to make matters worse. Both wanted to kiss the other again. Erik wanted to put his hands on Angelina's soft skin while Angelina wanted to feel the touch of his lips.

"Let me take you back to your room."

"Alright."

Erik grasped her hand and began to lead her from the dance floor and to her room. The kiss he would play off as nothing more then an accident. There was no meaning behind it.

_Deny yourself the pleasure of a kiss and you will deny yourself love as well._

Then it would be denied for the time being. There would be no discussion of what happened tonight. Tonight, he would watch her sleep as dreams took her. He would protect her and sing to her until the sun rose. And then, they would discuss what happened.

* * *

In the shadows, a figure peered out from behind a marble column. He watched as the masked figure escorted Angelina from the dance floor. 

Stepping into the light, Jonathan watched his fiancé being swept away by the man who challenged his affections to Angelina. He had watched the kiss and how Angelina seemed to be "touched" by his hands on her body and his lips on hers.

Anger and fury grew within him. It would only be a matter of time before he found out the identity of the man who had captured Angelina's heart. And it would only be a matter of time before the problem would be solved.


	34. The Reality of It All

**A/N: I want to thank ebonyribbon for pointing out how much I've been saying that Erik and Angelina love each other but won't tell each other at the end of my chapters. I'm hoping to stay away from that for awhile. If I touch on it, I'm sorry. I really don't mean to. Forgive me… I promise you, it will be all worth it at the end. And yes, I have plotted out the end of my story already. But just so you know, I'll begin to plan chapters 44, 45, and 46 tomorrow. I just wrote chapter 42 and I do have to say it's one of my favorites. Enjoy the chapter and read and review as always.**

**Chapter 33 – The Reality of It All**

The midday Paris sun had begun to seep through Angelina's bedroom windows. Although the windows were dusty and dirty, the heat still managed to find its way through.

Her head began to pound as Angelina slowly stirred in her bed. Squinting from the sun, her eyes barely focused on the chair beside her. A figure was sitting on it but Angelina could not make out the features or the face.

"I am glad you are awake, Angelina."

Her eyes began to focus and saw the Madam Giry was seated by her bedside. Strong hands were rested in her lap as her gaze was focused upon Angelina.

"Am I late for rehearsal?"

"I have assured Meg that you would work twice as hard tomorrow."

"What happened?"

Madam Giry helped the young girl sit up in her bed. Angelina was still pale but seemed to be much better then the previous night.

"Rene escorted you back to your room after a bout of dizziness."

Angelina hardly remembered the previous night. There was a flurry of gold and white and music within her mind. Then there was…

"Oh my!"

Madam Giry watched as realization passed over the young girl's face. "What is it, my dear?"

"The man I was with…"

"Rene?"

"No! It was not Rene." She could not reveal who it was. "This man, who I have been seeing, he was there…He kissed me."

The fears Madam Giry had held in her heart had come to pass. Angelina had remembered that Erik was with her. The plan that was thought not to be needed would have to be used.

"A dream perhaps?"

"No, it was much more then a dream. It was reality."

"You were with Rene the entire night, my child. There was no one else with you."

Angelina shook her head. It could not be. It could not be that Erik's kiss and their dancing was all in her mind. "It is not possible."

"I assure you, Angelina, that you were on Rene's arm the entire night." She would have to tell Rene to go along with Erik's plan. "There was no other man near you unless they were passing by you while dancing."

Angelina pulled the sheet up to her chest. _It was all a dream._ Everything that stirred within her wished to be released. She could still feel Erik's lips upon hers. The dream seemed so real…

"Who is this man?"

Madam Giry's question sent Angelina's mind in search of a quick answer.

"Is it your fiancé?"

"No, Madam, it is not."

"Then who claims your heart in such a manner that you cannot tell dreams from reality?"

"I cannot say, Madam."

She had already known who claimed the young girl's heart. There was no way to stop what was developing. Erik had fallen for the young dancer while Angelina had fallen for the tortured soul.

"Then tell me about him without mentioning his name."

"Why?"

"You need to tell someone, Angelina. You have told no one of your feelings for this man and it is building inside of you."

"You are right."

"So, tell me about him."

"He is a composer."

"A promising career."

"He is an amazing singer and dancer."

Madam Giry had known about the singing but the dancing was a talent she had failed to notice about Erik.

"His eyes could pierce your soul, Madam Giry. His voice captivates me like nothing I have ever felt before."

Erik had cast his spell on the young woman. "And this continues in your dreams?"

"Yes."

"Have you told this man that you love him?"

Angelina solemnly shook her head. "I cannot."

"Why not, child?"

"He sees me as only a student and nothing more. I cannot tell him my feelings."

"You would deny yourself love because of fear?"

"I would deny myself love because it would not be reciprocated."

_Naïve child._ Both were denying themselves because each was afraid of rejection.

"Madam Giry, you can tell no one of this. Please, for my sake."

She sighed and turned to Angelina. "You have my solemn vow. No words will be spoken to anyone else about this matter."

Angelina sighed and smiled. "Thank you, Madam."

"Rene has been worried about you."

"I have no doubt."

Angelina rose from the bed and quickly pulled on her dress for the day. Madam Giry sat and watched her.

"If you will excuse me, Madam, I must get to rehearsal." Stopping once she opened the door, she turned back to Madam Giry. "Thank you again for telling no one what I have told you."

Madam Giry simply nodded as Angelina quickly left the room. Rising from the chair, she walked over to the mirror and slid it open and then closed it behind her. The looming corridor before her would be long but she would travel it to talk to Erik.

_He must be told. He must know.

* * *

_

_Their eyes met once again. Standing up straight, Angelina rose on her toes and her lips touched Erik's lips. The touch was light like a feather and Erik hardly knew she had touched them. Before she could pull away, Erik drew her closer and made the kiss deeper. Adjusting for her height, he bent his head down, making it much more passionate._

_The music reached a crescendo as Erik's arms wrapped around her tiny frame. He could not believe what he was doing._

The image kept replaying within Erik's mind – distracting him from his composing. The feel of her silky lips were still upon his. He had found his hand gently touching them, hoping to find hers on them.

"You must tell her."

His thoughts were shattered as he turned to find Madam Giry standing near the water's edge.

"Madam…"

"Do not 'Madam' me, Erik. You must tell the girl."

Erik was bewildered as to why Madam Giry was so adamant about admitting to Angelina of his feelings for her. He knew that the feelings would not be reciprocated. The plan of not revealing to Angelina that the kiss was real was to keep her from being frightened of what happened.

"No."

"Just no?"

"No, Madam Giry. My answer is final."

"I will not take that as a final answer."

She was being stubborn and had always gotten her way when she had been like this. Erik would not let her win this time. He would not give in.

"My answer is no, Madam. I will not change my mind."

"You are stubborn, Erik. Your foolish pride will hurt you."

"I am not hurting, Madam. I am perfectly content."

"For how long?" It would not be long before Angelina consumed Erik in the same fashion Christine had. She would not let it get that far. "Angelina will not be Christine."

"No, she will not." Erik stood and looked upon the woman below him. Madam Giry had protected him for years. He did not need protecting any longer. "Angelina will not find out about my feelings for her."

"Your heart is breaking. I will not be here to pick up the pieces."

"I do not wish for you to."

"The kiss, Erik, is just the beginning."

Erik had found out that she had seen it all. She had confronted him as soon as he had returned from Angelina's room. They had talked for hours – almost until the sun rose. The plan had been plotted and everything was set into motion. But Madam Giry did not know everything. Feelings stirred within him – feelings that he did not know how to control.

"It is the end." Erik looked down at Madam Giry.

"You fail to see it. You are so blinded you fail to see it."

"I fail to see what?"

Her mind screamed for her to tell him what Angelina had said to her only moments prior. But her heart knew otherwise. "You fail to see everything around you. Your heart tells you to tell her but yet you deny its release."

"Angelina is merely a child…"

"Whom you love. Erik! Please, spare yourself the heartache and tell her you love her."

A chill filled the air as Madam Giry watched the candles extinguish one by one. Erik's anger was growing and his illusions were intensifying.

"No. And do not ask me again."

Erik moved back to the organ and sat down. Only two candles were lit – one upon the organ and one right near Madam Giry. The light illuminated every feature on Erik's face. He took his right hand and removed the mask from his face. The scars did not scare Madam Giry as they once had in the past. They were apart of Erik as much as his music was.

"Leave."

Music began to fill the lair. Madam Giry lingered for only a few moments longer. She knew his mind would not be swayed unless by some unforeseen miracle. Leaving him to his solitude, she began to devise a plan to have Angelina show her devotion to her teacher. She walked through the darkness, finding her way without thought.

The darkness surrounded him once again. But the light that lit his features reminded him of the light that Angelina had cast into his life. It was brighter then anything he had ever known. But the darkness was a part of his life and would not easily be cast aside. Until it diminished, he would leave Angelina in peace. But the storm that raged inside of him would not be contained for long. Soon, it would be released in some form or another. He prayed that it would not be the way he thought it would be.


	35. Dear

**A/N: Ok, this is what I would like to call a filler chapter. There are some things in here that are setting up for things to come. I thought the format was a little different and would keep you guys interested. Let me know what you think. I promise, the pace will pick up after this chapter. Enjoy! Read and review as always.**

**Chapter 34 – Dear…**

_November 1st_

_Mother,_

_I have received your letter and thought I should write you. I assure you that everything is alright and that I am well. I am sorry to hear about Jonathan leaving town. My imagination has run amuck as to why he would do such an action. It is beyond words and comprehension. I am sure he will return in due course._

_Alexander has also written and has told me he has taken over for Jonathan while he is away. He will not be coming to Paris but has assured me that the opera will continue on as scheduled._

_I hope to hear from you and father soon. Again, everything is fine here._

_With much love,_

_Angelina

* * *

_

_November 9th_

_Madam Giry,_

_Once again, I am to inform you of the great talent of Angelina de Chagny. Although she will be performing in the newest opera, I wish for her to be the star in the special performance for the upcoming Christmas show. She is a beauty and talent for all of the world to see._

_Assure me that your daughter will see to it and will not fail me in this request._

_Erik

* * *

_

_November 17th_

_To The Special Financier,_

_I have been informed that you wish to see Angelina de Chagny in the special Christmas performance. Unfortunately I cannot grant your request. Angelina is the star in our newest opera and must continue to rehearse for her performance. I assure you that someone, not of her caliber, but just as talented will be filling the spot._

_Once again, I am sorry to decline but the request cannot be granted._

_Arnaud Bellmonte

* * *

_

_November 26th_

_My Dearest Angelina,_

_Your mother and I are happy to hear that everything is going well. Meg has written to us and tells us every time how much your dancing and singing is improving. Your mother could not be happier._

_Jonathan has returned, much to your brother's delight. He is glad to see that his old friend is alright and on the road back to claiming what is his. Although none of us know the reason why he had left, it still warms our hearts to know that he is alright._

_How is the "man" that we talked about the last time I was in Paris? Have you had any luck in telling him your true feelings? Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep this from your mother? She begs me every day to tell her what happened and I cannot because of the promise I made to you._

_Write soon, my dear, and tell me everything. All is well here but lonely without you. We all miss you but know that you are fairing well in Paris._

_With all of the love that I possess,_

_Your father

* * *

_

_November 30th_

_Monsieur Bellmonte,_

_I have enclosed the necessary funding for you to run your Christmas performance. All that I ask of you is that you put Angelina de Chagny in her rightful spot. I would hate to have to find a way to destroy the opera house that you and your partner have built from scratch._

_Write to me and tell me that my request has been granted. I will not accept no for an answer._

_Monsieur

* * *

_

_December 4th_

_Monsieur,_

_We accept your gracious contribution to the Christmas performance and will discuss with Angelina the decision which is hers to make. If she agrees, we will see to it that she is apart of the Christmas performance. I hope that this is a decision you will accept._

_Arnaud Bellmonte

* * *

_

_December 7th_

_Mother and Father,_

_I have been asked to star in the special Christmas performance and I have accepted. I know that you more then likely will not be able to attend but I thought I would send the invitation along. I miss you both. Alexander has written to me telling me he is not sure if he can attend._

_If I do not hear from you before Christmas, I wish you the merriest of Christmas's and know that I am thinking of you always._

_With all my love,_

_Angelina

* * *

_

_December 7th_

_Father,_

_I wanted to write this separate. The question that you posed to me in the previous letter had to be answered in this fashion. I have not spoken to the man that I have feelings for about anything I discussed with you. I wish I could find the courage but I cannot. I do love him, Father, but I am afraid to tell him in fear of rejection. Maybe one day soon I will find the courage to tell him. Until then, I am silent._

_Angelina

* * *

_

_December 10th_

_Monsieur Bellmonte,_

_I have just been informed of Angelina's acceptance to do the Christmas performance. I am glad to hear that my request has not been denied. Assure Angelina that her rehearsals for the special performance will not counteract the ones of the newest opera. I will see to it that all is taken care of._

_Monsieur

* * *

_

_December 12th_

_Monsieur,_

_Thank you for your prompt answer. Angelina has been informed and is excited to perform. She assures me that she will be able to balance both the new opera and the special performance. I will reserve Box Five for you and see that no one disturbs you during the performance._

_If there is anything else I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask. I will see that all is done for you._

_Arnaud Bellmonte

* * *

_

_December 14th_

_Angelina,_

_Your rehearsals will be twice as long and your lessons harder. I will expect nothing less then perfection from you. I have been informed that you are to perform in both the new opera and the special Christmas performance. You are to be at your best to impress all of Paris._

_Angelina, I know that I am putting you through a grueling pace, but I assure you that I would not if I had a choice. You are to be perfect as I know you are. Accept my apologies now if I am harsh with you. But know that I am doing it in your best interest._

_Yours always,_

_Erik_


	36. A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned

**A/N: I am posting this way early because I know how slow the last chapter felt. I wanted to start getting to the good stuff. I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, I would love for you to read and review. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 35 – A Penny Saved is a Penny Earned**

The opera house seemed to be full of life. Everyone on stage and off was more vibrant then previous days. Ever since the masked ball, they all had found new energy and a new reason to continue on. It had been a success. Everyone who had attended agreed that it had been the best gala anyone had seen in Paris.

Christmas was also on its way. Paris was decorated and the ground full of freshly fallen snow. Most would leave for the holiday and return after New Years. Many more would stay behind, finding a way to celebrate in the dormitories of the opera house.

Angelina would be one to stay behind. She would not journey home as her parents wanted her to. Longing to stay behind and keep Rene and Erik company, she sacrificed her parents' happiness for theirs.

_They would understand…_

It would not be until after the New Year that the opera would be performed. She still had time to improve upon what she lacked. There had been things she felt had not been perfected yet. Monsieur Laurent and Meg had told her several times that she had been as perfect as she could be. Angelina disagreed. She knew that Erik would as well.

"Angelina!"

Completing her pirouette, she turned and faced Rene. He stopped in front of her – out of breath.

"What is it?"

"Monsieur de Wynter has backed out of the funding for the opera house."

"What!"

"I just heard Arnaud talking with his partner. He backed out several days ago."

The news was shocking. What had made Jonathan back out of the funding for the opera?

"But there is a new investor."

"Anyone we know?"

"He is Russian." Rene could not believe the news himself. The Russian had come to Paris to become an investor in an opera house. He had picked the Opera Garnier.

"Russian? Rene, are you mad?"

"I swear it, Angelina. Arnaud is showing him through the opera house as we speak."

Angelina continued to reel from the news of Jonathan. It would correspond with the letters she had received from her parents. He had left home abruptly and without cause. Now he let go of the opera house that he had claimed to love.

"I do not understand."

"Neither do I, Angelina. All I know is that this new investor is not like Monsieur de Wynter. Whatever he seeks, he finds."

"And this, Monsieur Vasilev, is the main stage."

Angelina and Rene stepped off to the side as Rene brought a burly man with him. The dark furs he wore made him look distinguished yet menacing. Gray hair set off his sea blue eyes. They seemed to glow as the light reflected off of them.

"He is the new investor?" Angelina asked Rene barely above a whisper. She did not wish for the investor to hear.

"Yes. He has barely spoken two words since he entered the house."

"We will be performing our newest opera, lead by our very own Madam Giry."

"Your wife?"

Meg stepped along side Arnaud. "Yes, I am his wife."

"And yet you are still called by your maiden name?"

Meg was startled by the statement. "Yes."

"Why?"

"It is to keep my father's memory alive. Nothing more, Monsieur."

"I see."

Angelina and Rene watched as the large man began his tour of the stage. He examined every inch and every nook and cranny. Angelina had never seen a man so precise before. He stopped right in front of Angelina and Rene.

Rene watched as the man did not look at the décor but at Angelina. His gaze lingered over her body and seemed to want to invite her in.

Arnaud, noticing that he was not moving, moved along side the new investor.

"Monsieur Vasilev, I would like to introduce Rene DuBois – our leading tenor singer. And our lead dancer and singer – Angelina de Chagny. This is our new investor – Mikhail Vasilev."

Rene watched as Mikhail took a hold of Angelina's hand and kissed the back of it. Trying not to show how repulsed she was, she showed a polite smile and retracted her hand quickly. His gaze still did not leave her body. Rene, suddenly feeling the need to protect her, snaked his arm around Angelina's waist and brought her closer to him.

"They will be performing along side one another in the new opera after the New Year."

"I want to see a demonstration."

"Pardon?"

"This new opera that you keep telling me about…I wish to see a part of it."

Arnaud and Meg looked at one another. Meg, nodding her head, gestured to both Rene and Angelina.

Rene continued to watch as Mikhail's gaze never left Angelina's. Looking at Angelina, he leaned in close.

"Are you alright?"

Angelina could not find the words. Mikhail had made her feel small and insignificant. She did not like the way he looked at her or touched her. Her heart raced as the music slowly started.

Mikhail began to circle the stage. He now had one solitary purpose for funding the opera: Angelina de Chagny. She was remarkable and beautiful. Her slender frame and milky skin enticed him beyond anything else ever had. DuBois seemed to be overprotective but that could be remedied without provocation.

Arnaud slowly walked up to Mikhail, noticing how he was looking at Angelina. "Monsieur?"

"I wish to see more, Monsieur Bellmonte. A solo by the young girl."

Arnaud swallowed hard and looked over at Meg. Meg hesitated for a brief second before gesturing to Rene to leave the stage. Doing as commanded, Rene moved off to the side but still close enough to reach Angelina if needed.

Shaking with fear, Angelina took the stage and the solo that Mikhail had requested. She continued around the stage, ignoring the stares from him. Losing her balance, she began to fall…

Mikhail quickly rushed to her side and captured Angelina in his arms. Rene began to step forward but quickly stopped after receiving a glare that only Erik could have rivaled.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

"Perfectly fine, Monsieur. If you could put me down onto the stage…"

Taking the amble opportunity, Mikhail continued to hold her – knowing that the young girl would not be able to protest. His fingers began to caress her back gently, making her squirm.

Finally leaving his grasp, Angelina's feet touched the ground. She scurried away from him and into Rene's arms. Meg quickly rushed over to the pair – making sure that she was not harmed in any way.

Arnaud, once again, walked over to Mikhail. Although his frame was large, it would not stop Arnaud from protecting Angelina. She was as much a daughter to him as she was to Raoul. He loved her and would protect her if he had to.

"Have you seen enough, Monsieur?"

"I have. I do wish to see more: tomorrow morning."

"I am sure my wife's dancers would be happy to…"

"Angelina will be performing for me. I will have no one else."

"Monsieur…"

"There will be no debates. Tomorrow morning she will perform once again so that I might examine your leading singer and dancer."

Without any other words, Arnaud and Meg watched as Mikhail left the stage. Angelina trembled in Rene's arms. She would have to perform for the man once again.

"Please, Rene, do not make me do that."

"Everything will be alright. You will see."

* * *

The organ bench was empty and no music filled the air. Rene became troubled as he descended the staircase. Usually, Erik was sitting at the organ, playing a piece from his newest opera. Today was an exception.

"Erik!"

There was no answer.

"Erik, I must speak with you!"

Again, no answer.

"It is about Angelina…"

The curtain, off to the side, pulled back. Erik, dressed only in a pair of black pants, emerged. The look on his face was full of concern for Angelina.

"What happened?"

"There is a new financier – a Mikhail Vasilev."

"Russian?"

"Yes."

"What does he have to do with Angelina?"

"He fancies her, Erik."

Rene watched as anger grew in Erik's eyes. His master was in love with Angelina. He knew that Erik was the right man to go to.

"How do you know this?"

"He gazed upon her as if she were his prized possession."

Erik began toward Rene. His blood was boiling. Although Angelina was not his, he felt as though he needed to protect her. Monsieur Vasilev seemed to have intentions beyond that of a financier. It would not be tolerated.

"I want to know everything. Leave no detail out."

Rene watched anger pass over Erik's eyes. It made him shiver that his master could become so angry in one moment but yet so passionate in the next.

_It is Angelina that does it to him…_

"Everything, Rene…"

"Angelina fell and he caught her. I saw her look, Erik. His fingers glided up and down her back…

His back tensed. All Erik saw was red. It blinded him almost to the point where he would need to take his anger out on something or someone. Turning away from Rene, he let his emotions slowly come to pass. He had not felt such anger since the Vicomte and even then it had not been in such a fashion.

"She has been requested to dance tomorrow morning in a solo for his behalf. Monsieur Bellmonte could not refuse. Monsieur Vasilev would not take no for an answer."

"And how did Angelina react?"

"She shook in my arms. She is frightened of the man."

"As she should be." Erik finally turned to Rene. He could see the fear in his eyes as well. "Does he trouble you as well?"

"His intentions do."

"Will you attend tomorrow morning?"

"Yes. But he will not allow me on stage."

"If he will not allow you on stage, there is no point of you attending." He needed to protect Angelina, to make sure she remained unharmed. Thoughts filled his head. Erik knew he would have to find a way on stage. "I will handle it."

"Erik…please do not tell her I told you. She is trying to be strong and not let anyone know how frightened she is. Angelina knows that Monsieur de Wynter dropped the funding to the newest opera…"

Erik's eyes widened slightly. This was news he had not yet heard. That would be why Arnaud had found the Russian. He needed someone else to fund the opera.

"…she knows how important it is for us to have this new investor."

"That does not mean she needs to suffer in the process."

"This is true. However, Angelina will not compromise anything. You know this, Erik."

"Yes, I know. She is as stubborn as her mother." He began up to his organ, leaving Rene standing there. "Leave me. I promise you, all will be handled."

"Thank you, Erik."

Without any other words, Rene ascended the staircase and listened to the music he lacked hearing on the travel down.

Thoughts filled Erik's mind.

_His hands on her body – caressing and touching…_

Erik's hands slammed the keys in protest of his thoughts. A man had no right to touch a woman unless she willed it. Vasilev took advantage of a situation and took advantage of a young woman.

_Today will be the last day he will touch Angelina._

Erik swore to himself that if Vasilev laid another hand on her that his hands would be around Vasilev's throat.

Beginning to play, his thoughts changed to Angelina. Erik needed to find a way to talk to her and have her understand that it was not her responsibility to make the man happy. Her soul needed to remain intact and for it not to be compromised because of worrying about funding for an opera.

Rising from his organ, he moved to his workbench and began to write…


	37. Into Safe Arms

**A/N: I'm changing this format a little. My muse has become incessant about speaking. He's grown jealous of my friend's fic (EverspringNative's 'A Heart That Bleeds') and how he is able to speak. So, before I bow to both of my muses…I would like to thank you all for your comments. Please keep them coming. And now…a word from just one of my muses…**

_In keeping with the format of Phoenix's comments, I would like to thank you all for reading about us in this tale of a monster and his angel. There is still much story to be told. And I know you are all anxious for me to reveal to Angelina that I love her. All in good time. I torture dear Phoenix as much as I torture you. Hopefully, my dearest Angelina will not be reading this. Enjoy the chapter. Both Phoenix and I would love for you to read and review._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

_P.S. The Russian will get his due…_

**Chapter 36 – Into Safe Arms**

Her room became cold and dark by the time she had returned to the dormitories. It had been a grueling day of rehearsals and on top of that…

Angelina shuttered at the thought of Mikhail Vasilev's arms around her. The man frightened her to the point of wanting to cry. She had felt safer in Rene's arms but knew that he would not be there the next morning.

She needed to tell Erik but her pride stopped her. The funding for the newest opera would be lost if she protested Mikhail's advances. Meg and Arnaud assured her that it would all be over soon.

Entering the room, she noticed a crack in the mirror.

_He has been here…_

Quickly moving inside, she noticed a letter on her bed. Lighting a candle, she sat down upon the bed and gently opened the seal. His writing seemed to have been frantic and uncontrolled. It began to worry Angelina.

_Dearest Angelina,_

_I write to you tonight in the hopes that you will come see me before you turn in. I wish to speak with you about an urgent matter. Come to the lair as soon as you receive this. I will await your presence._

_Erik_

Something was definitely wrong. He did not even sign 'yours always'. It troubled Angelina and made her heart race. She was unsure if she wanted to know what was worrying him so. But she would journey down the winding staircase to find out the problem that haunted him.

* * *

Angelina stood on the edge of the water and looked about the lair. Erik was not sitting at his organ. 

_Something is truly wrong…_

"Erik?"

"Who is Mikhail Vasilev?"

His voice echoed throughout the cavern and made the water ripple. Angelina's heart stopped at the sound of the new financier's name. She knew that Erik would eventually hear of him. The time was too soon. Angelina did not have enough time to think of something to tell him.

_Does he know of what happened today?_

"The new financier."

"And what is his interest in the opera?"

"None."

Angelina watched as the velvet curtain, to his private room, was pulled back. Erik leaned against the rock, watching Angelina with keen interest.

"Are you lying?"

"Why would I have reason to lie?"

"What is his interest in the opera?"

_He knows!_

"Beyond financing, I do not know."

Erik began toward her. He was disheveled and unkempt. Angelina had never seen him look so out of place before. His shirt was missing as were his shoes. He was more casual then ever. His jet black hair looked as though it had braved a wind storm. As Erik became closer to her, she began to notice the bloodshot eyes.

"Erik, what has happened to you?"

"Does he have an interest in the opera's lead singer?"

"Rene?"

"No…" He finally stepped in front of her and looked at her frightened face. "…you, Angelina. Does he have an interest in you?"

"I…"

Erik watched as her frightened look turned to a humiliated look. Quickly turning away from him, Angelina tried to think of some excuse to give.

"There is no interest, Erik."

"You are certain?"

"Yes."

Angelina was trying to deny everything and it pained Erik to know that she did not trust him enough. He wanted to protect her – at all costs.

"Angelina, I want an honest answer."

"Please, Erik, every answer I have given has been honest."

"No, it has not."

Sobs racked her body as tears began to form. Angelina wanted to not only protect the opera but Erik as well.

"I know he has touched you…"

Tears spilled down her cheeks. Frightened, she slowly turned around and looked at Erik.

"…and wants you to dance for him tomorrow morning."

"Erik…"

"Why could you not tell me?"

"I did not…I did…" She could not speak. "I could not…"

Before she could fall to her knees, Erik caught her in his strong arms. He held her against his chest as hot tears burned his flesh.

"Please, Erik…do not make me tell you."

"It is not your responsibility to save the opera. You do not have to dance for him."

Looking at him, through tear filled eyes, Angelina shook her head. "Arnaud is depending on me. I am the lead singer. I must support the opera any way I can."

"That does not mean your innocent soul must pay the price."

The words Erik spoke made her feel even worse. She knew they were meant to make her feel better but they had the opposite effect.

"I have to continue, Erik. There is no one else left to fund the opera. Jonathan withdrew his funding. Monsieur Vasilev is the only man who can do this."

Erik's hand on her cheek made her weep even harder. It was gentle and sweet. She pressed her cheek against his hand, not wanting to lose the feel of it.

"I will fund the opera."

"How?"

"I will find a way." There was a long pause. "I do not want you to dance for him tomorrow."

"How can I not?"

"Claim you are ill. Think of something that would not allow you on stage."

"Arnaud will not understand."

"He will understand, Angelina. He already knows how uncomfortable you are with this man. Arnaud is not the type of man to force you to do something you do not wish to do."

"This will not help my reputation. I will have a black mark all over Paris."

"Let your reputation be damned! Paris is not your concern." Placing both of his hands on her face, Erik made her look at him. "You are my concern, Angelina. You are not safe when you are around him."

Although Angelina had felt safe in Rene's arms when Mikhail was around, she felt safer in Erik's.

"I will move heaven and earth to protect you. Hell itself will not keep me at bay."

Angelina wrapped her arms around Erik's waist. He felt as though he would be deprived of all oxygen by how tight she was holding him. Erik did not care. He knew she felt safe with him and it made him even more determined to see that she was not harmed.

"Be there tomorrow morning, Erik. I will dance for him but I will feel safer if you are there."

"You know I cannot be seen."

"I am to be the only one there with him. No one else will be there." Her eyes pleaded to him as she looked at him. "Please do not leave me alone with him."

"You wish to dance for him?"

"I wish to keep the funding for the opera. I have no choice."

"I will fund it."

"I will not have you fund an opera that you have no part of."

"I have a part in it…" He smiled at her. "…you."

Her eyes could not look at him any longer. She was ashamed of what she would have to do. But there was little choice. She could not have Erik fund the opera. It was not his place. But it made her feel loved when he told her she would be the reason to fund it.

"But if you wish to do this, then I will find a way to protect you."

"Thank you." Standing on tiptoes, Angelina put her lips to his unmarred cheek and gently kissed it. "Thank you for everything."

"I would do anything for you, Angelina. But you need to promise me that next time you have a problem, you will tell me."

She nodded her head and smiled. "I will not hold back from you any longer."

Holding out his hand, Angelina took it. "Then come. I must return you to your room. You must be well rested for tomorrow morning."

Before they could begin up the stairs, Angelina finally got up the courage to ask the question she had been wanting to.

"Erik?"

Looking back at her, Erik showed her his masked side. Emotions were playing out on his unmarred side. He would not show them to her.

"Yes?"

"What lengths would you go to, to protect me?"

Erik sighed, knowing the question would be posed. "The lengths I would have to, to ensure your safety. There is nothing I would not do, Angelina. Nothing."

Their eyes locked for what seemed like hours. Angelina knew that Erik would protect her but she was still unsure of how far he would go.

Erik had killed before and would not hesitate to do so once again. This served a purpose. Joseph Buquet and the dreadful Piangi furthered an obsession. Mikhail Vasilev would be for protection. No harm would come to Angelina while she was in his care. Hell would come to earth before he would let that happen.

They continued up the staircase with no more words spoken between them. The lingering silence only seemed to be an indication of what was to come.


	38. Cross the Bridge of Fire Part I

**A/N:** _I am not sure how to start this. Erik told me he spoke for Phoenix in the last chapter. I told him that I wanted to do it this chapter. My dear friend Phoenix has decided to split this chapter. She knows how much you, the audience, love cliffhangers. She hopes that you will not shun her for doing this. The chapter is rather long and she did not want it to feel like you were reading forever. Please enjoy this chapter. We (Erik, Phoenix, and I) long to hear what you think. Read and review as always. I always read as do many of the other patrons of the opera house. The curtain rises on our story…_

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

_P.S. On a side note, I would like to extend the invitation for you all to read Phoenix's story on FictionPress. It is called 'The Lonely Road We Have Taken'. Read and review as always. I assure you, that you will not be disappointed with it. Her name is the same on there as well: PhoenixScribe._

**Chapter 37 – Cross the Bridge of Fire: Part I**

There were no stage hands, no conductor, no music… Angelina felt naked standing on the wooden floor. The light flickered around her. She felt alone and afraid. Fear continued to rise inside of her and it would not be contained. She had promised Arnaud that if anything went wrong that she would tell him immediately.

"Good morning, Angelina…"

Angelina swallowed and watched as Mikhail Vasilev walked down the aisle and sat in the front row.

"You will dance for me this morning."

"Yes, Monsieur."

"There will be no music. Just you and you alone."

"I understand."

…_I will find a way to protect you._

She smiled slightly, recalling Erik's statement. Looking toward the rafters, all she saw was darkness. There was no sign of Erik.

"Dance, Angelina."

Looking out at Mikhail one last time, Angelina began her dance to only the music inside of her mind. She ignored the fact that Mikhail was sitting out in the audience. Erik was with her – always. It made her performance go that much smoother.

Nothing around her seemed to matter. Nor the fact that Mikhail had begun to move from the front row and up to the stage. Angelina finished her dance and spun into his arms.

"Monsieur!"

"It was superb, Angelina."

"Thank you, Monsieur."

"Please, call me Mikhail."

He continued to hold onto her arms. Angelina tried to break from his grasp but he was too strong for her tiny frame.

"You are a sight, Angelina. I am sure you have been told this a thousand times."

"Only by one man, Monsieur."

"You have a suitor?"

"A fiancé."

Mikhail did not see that coming. Gently letting her go, he channeled his rage. Angelina watched as his expressions changed from caring to anger.

"A fiancé?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

"And he is a dancer?"

Would she lie to save herself? "No, Monsieur."

Mikhail's eyes lit up with promise. He continued toward Angelina, forcing her against a wall. Large hands rested on either side of her.

_They are larger then Erik's…_

"So he is not in Paris?"

"I did not say that, Monsieur."

"Where is he, Angelina?"

Her throat seemed to close. She could not speak or find the words. Angelina wanted to shout that Erik was just behind the curtain watching the both of them. But she could not do it.

Angelina cringed as one of Mikhail's hands slowly caressed her bare arm.

"It is ashame that a beautiful young girl like you could belong to someone."

"And I do, Monsieur."

"I could remedy that very quickly."

Angelina's breath caught as he trailed a finger down her cheek.

"I am afraid, Monsieur, that you are mistaken."

"I will not be denied, Angelina."

"You must. I cannot be what you wish me to be."

The slap of his hand caused Angelina to fall to the wooden floor. Tears burned in her eyes as her hand instinctively went to her cheek. She slowly looked up as Mikhail hovered over her.

"You will be what I want you to be. I am funding your opera with my money. I will get my just reward."

Before Mikhail could put his hand on her again, a black leather gloved hand grasped his wrist. Angelina's eyes went wide.

"Erik?"

Mikhail's head slowly turned and saw a tall figure standing there. He nearly laughed as he saw the mask upon Erik's face. "What is this? Some sort of joke?"

"I assure you, Monsieur, that I am no joke." Erik looked toward Angelina. "Are you alright?"

"I have been better."

"Rise."

Angelina slowly rose to her feet. Erik slowly let go of Mikhail's arm as the large man began to rub where Erik had squeezed. Both men looked toward Angelina.

"Who is this, Angelina?" The fury inside of Mikhail was growing. The man in the white mask was about his size. It would be a fair fight.

Angelina smiled brighter then the sun. "My guardian angel."

Although there was happiness slowly building inside of Erik, he could not show it. "Go to my home, Angelina. I will be there shortly."

"But…"

"Go. I assure you everything will be alright."

Angelina hesitated but stepped toward the safe haven of Erik's home. Before completely going into the darkness, she looked back one more time and saw Erik's eyes. Something burned behind them. Angelina wanted to know what it was but knew that it would not be something good.

Erik waited another moment as Angelina was swallowed by the darkness. He watched as Vasilev turned to him. The bulky frame of the man was somewhat menacing but nothing that Erik could not take care of. The smile made him cringe. The Russian's teeth were yellow and cracked. The thought of him near Angelina made his blood boil.

They began to circle each other – as if it was a dance of death. The Russian laughed and it echoed throughout the opera house.

"So you are the young girl's suitor."

Erik remained silent. He would not give him any sort of leverage.

"A man in a mask. Impressive." The laughter came from low inside of him. He wanted to make it sound menacing. "You are no match for me."

Stripping his cape, Erik bowed in front of Vasilev. Slightly raising his head, Erik's smile was sly. "Let us be gentlemen about this, shall we?"


	39. Cross the Bridge of Fire Part II

**A/N:** _I hope that this chapter finds you all in good spirits. It has found me in great spirits. Please note that this chapter I know will keep some of you in the shadows because of the way it is presented, but know that I forced Phoenix to do it this way. She understands the way I think and knows all too well what I think of revealing too much too fast. Enjoy this chapter, and as always, we love to hear what you think. May music guide you home. We wish you a safe and happy holiday._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 37 – Cross the Bridge of Fire: Part II**

Angelina paced the cold rocky floor. Her bare feet seemed to slap off of it as she continued to quicken her pace. It had seemed like hours since she had left the stage. Erik had rescued her. Angelina smiled.

_Erik rescued me…_

She feared what might happen to him. Mikhail Vasilev was not a small man. His height was the same as Erik's but his size was twice what Erik was. Erik would have to exert force Angelina did not think was possible.

"Angelina…"

Angelina stopped pacing and looked toward the shore. Erik stood there, as if nothing had ever happened. She ran and into his waiting arms. Erik picked her up as her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Erik…"

"I am sorry to have kept you waiting." Setting her back on the ground, Erik looked at her and smiled.

"I have been so worried."

"There is nothing to be worried about any longer. Mikhail Vasilev will no longer be a threat to you."

Bewilderment passed over Angelina's face. "What have you done?"

"What one must do. You are safe now, Angelina. There is no reason to fear any longer."

She wrapped her arms around him – feeling safer than ever before. "Thank you, for protecting me."

His heart felt as though it would explode. His arms wrapped around her and held her close. Erik reveled in the warmth of her body and her heart.

"That is what a guardian angel is supposed to do."

Angelina blushed. "I am sorry for calling you that."

"Do not be. I rather enjoyed hearing it. I have never been called that before."

"You saved me, Erik. Without you, I do not know what would have…"

Erik listened as Angelina began to cry. Lifting her chin, he noticed the bruise that began to form on her cheek. Gently brushing the tear away, Angelina grimaced in pain.

"He should have never laid a hand on you."

"It could not have been helped."

"I should have been there sooner."

"If you did not come when you did, something far worse then a bruise would have happened."

The water did not ripple and the silence seemed to linger longer then it should have. Looking around the lair, Erik smiled.

"I have a present for you."

"Why?"

"As I recall, it is almost Christmas. And I think now is a good time to give it to you. It will give your mind something else to focus on."

He took her hand and led her to the organ bench. Angelina sat down and watched as Erik pushed artwork and models aside – in search of the present.

"It was not necessary, Erik. You have already given me too much."

"The mask you gave me was worth a lifetime of gifts."

"You saved my life. I am undeserving of a gift."

Angelina watched as Erik kneeled down in front of her. A blood red box was held in his hands.

"When I saw this, I knew that I wanted you to have it. I had someone buy it for me."

Slowly lifting the lid, Erik watched Angelina's face light up. She gasped at the sight of it.

"Erik! Oh my God, it is beautiful."

"Do you truly like it?"

"I love it." Her finger slowly grazed over it. "Where did you find it?"

"It was in a jewelry store window in the heart of Paris. I was wandering the streets one night and saw it." Gently taking it out of the box, he placed the gold necklace around her neck. His hands lingered longer then they should have but it did not seem to bother her. "I had them engrave it as well."

A pair of angel wings sat on the gold heart-shaped locket. Angelina looked down at it and smiled.

"Open it."

Hesitantly, Angelina opened the locket. Tucked inside was a small piece of black cloth. Angelina looked at Erik quizzically.

"What is it?"

"I know how fond you are of my cape. So I put a piece of it inside. Whenever you wear it, know that I am with you and that you are never alone." Angelina looked at him with tear filled eyes. "I am your protector, Angelina. I will never fail you."

"Erik…"

"I am your guardian angel."

Angelina fell into Erik's embrace. She never wanted to leave. There was a feeling of being safe when she was with him. He saved her and would again if the need arose. There was a need to tell him how she felt but there was so much going on inside of her that the right words needed would not be found.

Erik pulled back from her arms and looked upon her. "I must return you to your room. You need to rest. Tomorrow is rehearsals, yet again." He rose and noticed that Angelina did not move. "Angelina?"

"I wish to stay – with you." She paused, unsure of what to say next. "I am afraid to be alone in my room. I know that you said Monsieur Vasilev will not harm me any longer…but I am still afraid."

Angelina stood – their gazes never leaving one another.

"Please do not return me to my room. Let me stay here – just for tonight."

Her plea caught his heart. Erik held out his hand and she firmly grasped it. "Then you will stay."

He led her up the staircase and into his bedroom. The bed had not been made in days. Music consumed him and kept him awake. Rushing to the bed, he began to make it.

"Erik…"

Erik looked up and into her eyes.

"I do not mind the bed being unmade. I have done much worse." She slowly walked over to him and touched his hand. "I am just going to lie on them anyway."

Erik nodded his head and stepped back. "There are some spare clothes in the closet. I know you cannot sleep in your corset. I will leave you for a few moments so that you might change."

He moved from the room and heard the doors to his closet open. It was only a few moments before Angelina stepped from the room. Dressed in only his white dress shirt, Erik's breath caught at the sight of her.

"The pants were too big. I thought that this would do until the morning."

There were no words he could find to say to her.

"Good night."

He followed her in and watched her climb into the bed. Before she could pull the satin sheets over her, Erik did it for her. Angelina faced him and looked at him through heavy eyelids.

"Thank you again."

"The pleasure was mine." Erik bowed and began out. A slight tug on his hand made him turn back to her.

"Stay."

_She cannot ask this of me…_

"I know that I am safe here but…" She did not know how to phrase the rest of her sentence. "…I wish you here with me."

Erik hesitated for only the slightest of moments before he began around to the other side of the bed. Angelina watched him climb into the bed after stripping his overcoat and vest. Covering himself in the sheets was nothing compared to Angelina snuggling against him. Her tiny hand rested on his chest as she fell asleep in his arms.

Thoughts filled his head of the future. A future with Angelina.

_Is this what it would be like? Her just wrapped in my arms – safe and warm?_

He would not let his thoughts consume him. Sleep would not take him from his daydream. Angelina was safe in his arms. No one would harm her – ever.


	40. Blood Fire Death

**A/N:** _As you can see, by the previous chapter, my Guardian Angel saved my life. Many of you are wondering what happened. I am as well. Erik assures me that he has told his tale to Phoenix and that she has written it down. I hope that you find out what happened. Erik has put me back on the stage – practicing as always. Enjoy this chapter and as always, read and review for our dear writer. Our fate is in her hands._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 38 – Blood…Fire…Death…**

All Meg could remember was a shrill scream that emanated throughout the entire opera house. It had awoken not only her but almost everyone else. She had rushed to where the young girl was only to scream herself.

Mikhail Vasilev was pronounced dead at 9:30 in the morning. Meg would never forget the sight. Several inspectors had come to the scene quicker than she imagined they would. It had reminded her of the night Joseph Buquet was killed. He had hung from the rafters on the stage in the same manner Mikhail did.

"The Russian underground…"

Meg and Arnaud, who had joined her only moments after she found the girl, both turned to the inspector.

"I am sorry, sir…" Arnaud was puzzled. "Did you say the Russian underground?"

"It is their mob, so to speak, Monsieur." Holding up a black circle – wax – the inspector continued. "It is their mark. All of Monsieur Vasilev's pockets were bare. Apparently, the gentlemen owed them money."

Several men brought down the large body of Vasilev and quickly brought him out of the opera house. The inspectors had lingered for another hour before they left as well.

Arnaud sat Meg down and looked at her. She was pale and shaken. Memories of her past filled her mind and it frightened Arnaud to no end.

"I never thought I would see something of that manner again."

"I am sorry, Meg. I should have inspected the scene first."

Meg shook her head. "We have so much to worry about now."

"Do not worry about the opera. Something will come up."

"Such as what? We barely found this investor as it was."

"Something always comes up." Kissing her on the forehead, he stood and looked down at his radiant wife. "We will find a way."

Meg watched as Arnaud walked away.

_We will find a way._

She was beginning to wonder if luck was running with them or against them.

Most of the dancers were shaken and she had assured them that everything would be fine. But there was one that she had not seen…

_Angelina…

* * *

_

Angelina looked at herself in the mirror. The dress was a little loose but would do until she could retrieve one of her own.

"Angelina?"

Peering out of the bedroom, she looked and saw Erik standing on the stairs. He smiled at her and bowed.

"Shall I return you to your room?"

"As my guard?"

"As your angel…" He held out his hand and she graciously took it.

Before they could walk down the staircase, the sound of a cane hitting rock echoed throughout the lair.

"Angelina, you are to return to the dormitories."

Angelina's eyes went wide as she peered over. Standing near the edge of the lake was Madam Giry.

"Madam Giry!"

"Return to the dormitories immediately. Do not stop anywhere else."

"Yes, Madam."

Erik stood there and watched Angelina quickly leave the lair. He did not look at Madam Giry – knowing the glare that she was already giving him.

"I swear, Erik…"

"Nothing happened, I assure you that, Madam."

"Why did you do it?"

Erik looked upon her. Her face did not hold anger but sadness.

"Why did I do what, Madam?"

"Why did you kill him?"

Nodding his head, he began down the stairs. He responded – nonchalant. "Was it that obvious?"

"The noose around the man's neck was a very large indication."

"Apparently I am not the only one who does it." Reaching his organ, he held up a Parisian newspaper. The headline neither could deny.

_Russian Underground Tightens the Noose_

"Answer my question."

"I do not owe you any explanation, Madam Giry." He had already heard that the inspectors had ruled it to be murder for greed and money owed.

"There is already a new investor."

"That there is."

"A man with no name." She shook her head. "You are growing careless."

"I am growing a heart."

Madam Giry looked at him with her eyes wide. "I do not understand."

"She called me her guardian angel, Madam. She stayed with me last night so that I might protect her. She feels safe with me." He smiled. "My heart grows."

"Erik…please, listen to reason."

"Monsieur Vasilev was a threat to Angelina. I took care of it."

Madam Giry watched as he turned his back to her. He sat down at his organ as if there was nothing going on around him.

"You murdered a man."

"I saved a young woman's life."

"His blood is on your hands."

"You have no idea what happened."

"Then tell me, Erik, so that I might understand."

"He hit her, Madam." His head hung low. The bruise was already upon Angelina's cheek. Erik grimaced at the thought of what else would have happened. "Angelina might not be with us right now if I did not interject."

"Tell me what happened…"

"Very well."

* * *

"_You will be what I want you to be. I am funding your opera with my money. I will get my just reward."_

_Before Mikhail could put his hand on her again, a black leather gloved hand grasped his wrist. Angelina's eyes went wide._

"_Erik?"_

_Mikhail's head slowly turned and saw a tall figure standing there. He nearly laughed as he saw the mask upon Erik's face. "What is this? Some sort of joke?"_

"_I assure you, Monsieur, that I am no joke." Erik looked toward Angelina. "Are you alright?"_

"_I have been better."_

"_Rise."_

_Angelina slowly rose to her feet. Erik slowly let go of Mikhail's arm as the large man began to rub where Erik had squeezed. Both men looked toward Angelina._

"_Who is this, Angelina?" The fury inside of Mikhail was growing. The man in the white mask was about his size. It would be a fair fight._

_Angelina smiled brighter then the sun. "My guardian angel."_

_Although there was happiness slowly building inside of Erik, he could not show it. "Go to my home, Angelina. I will be there shortly."_

"_But…"_

"_Go. I assure you everything will be alright."_

_Angelina hesitated but stepped toward the safe haven of Erik's home. Before completely going into the darkness, she looked back one more time and saw Erik's eyes. Something burned behind them. Angelina wanted to know what it was but knew that it would not be something good._

_Erik waited another moment as Angelina was swallowed by the darkness. He watched as Vasilev turned to him. The bulky frame of the man was somewhat menacing but nothing that Erik could not take care of. The smile made him cringe. The Russian's teeth were yellow and cracked. The thought of him near Angelina made his blood boil._

_They began to circle each other – as if it was a dance of death. The Russian laughed and it echoed throughout the opera house._

"_So you are the young girl's suitor."_

_Erik remained silent. He would not give him any sort of leverage._

"_A man in a mask. Impressive." The laughter came from low inside of him. He wanted to make it sound menacing. "You are no match for me."_

_Stripping his cape, Erik bowed in front of Vasilev. Slightly raising his head, Erik's smile was sly. "Let us be gentlemen about this, shall we?"_

_Erik stood up straight as Vasilev began to circle him._

"_Do you think you stand a chance against me, masked man? Your precious Angelina will belong to me."_

"_Over my dead body."_

"_If that is how it must be, then so be it."_

_Vasilev quickly pulled his sword and thrust it at Erik. But with the speed of light, Erik had already drawn his and blocked the blow. The skull seemed to vibrate in his hand._

"_Impressive."_

"_I assure you, Monsieur, that my skills are quite impressive."_

"_No face but intelligence. I shall have to remember that."_

_Thrust after thrust…blow after blow…Erik blocked every one. The large man seemed to try to be gasping for air. He took his shot and knocked Vasilev to the floor. Pointing his sword at the man's throat, Erik smiled._

"_What I do have, Monsieur, is my precious Angelina. I promised her that no harm would come to her. I intend to make that promise stand true."_

_The sword dropped from his hand. The noise echoed throughout the opera house. Vasilev looked up at Erik._

"_How do you wish to kill me if you do not have a sword? You cannot harm me in any other fashion."_

_His laugh was quickly silenced. Vasilev quivered as he saw the evil smile upon Erik's face._

"_I assure you, Monsieur, that I already that planned."

* * *

_

_Erik watched as the life from Vasilev quickly drained. Vasilev's feet were just mere inches from the floor._

"_You will no longer be a threat to Angelina. I have kept my word."_

_Digging in his coat pocket, he placed a black wax seal at the foot of Vasilev's feet. Glancing up, the large man's eyes were still open. Bowing once again, Erik opened the door and walked out, leaving Vasilev in the dark where he belonged.

* * *

_

There was no remorse in Erik's eyes. He had done what he had set out to do – protect Angelina at all costs.

"Does she know the price you have paid to protect her?"

"No, she does not."

Madam Giry nodded her head. "Then I will speak of this to no one."

They both glared at each other, only for a moment.

"I will speak with Angelina. I will tell her that I will tell no one of her interaction with you."

"Thank you."

She began toward the stairs as Erik rose. "Madam Giry…"

Stopping, she did not turn around.

"Vasilev would have hurt Angelina if I did not stop him."

"I know this, Erik."

"Then what I have done is not truly a sin."

Madam Giry shook her head. "Erik, I am not to decide that. God and God alone is to decide."

"I will burn in hell for saving the life of an innocent?"

"I do not believe that." She paused, remembering Joseph Buquet and Piagni. "But there will be a price to pay for everything else you have done."

Erik hung his head. "All I am asking for is a miracle."

Madam Giry smiled but did not let Erik see it. "I believe you have found her."

Erik watched Madam Giry walk up the stairs. Would Angelina be the light he needed to escape the darkness that longed to claim him? Would there be more blood on his hands before he could ever be free?

All he wanted was a future. Maybe Madam Giry was right. Maybe Angelina was his miracle. Erik needed to tell her everything. In order to save himself, he must hurt the one he loved. In order to pursue a future, he needed to return to the past. So much pain and anguish to save his soul. Was he ready to redeem himself? Was the light ready to accept him?

_My guardian angel…_

For Angelina, he would walk through hell itself. He would revisit the past and hurt her to be with her. Erik was ready to do the unthinkable. Erik was ready to admit he was in love.


	41. The Traveling Caravan

**A/N:** _I know some of you were not happy that I took care of the repulsive and ill-mannered Monsieur Vasilev. But I assure you, it was for Angelina's best interests. I have given Phoenix an idea and she wants to see if you are willing to try it. I am interested in seeing what quote or part you like best in the current chapter. I thought that we could do this from now on along with you reviews. It would give my dear writer something to thrive for – seeing you favorite parts. So please, with your review, put your favorite quote or part. It would much be appreciated._

_And please forgive Phoenix for not updating. FF was disabled for a few days for repairs. She is glad to see how many of you are still with us. This chapter will bring me and my dear Angelina closer together._

_Read and review as always. Thank you._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 39 – The Traveling Caravan**

Rene and Angelina had spent the entire day shopping in the middle of Paris. Their arms were full of packages and food. Neither wanted to return to the dormitories. It was a weekend without rehearsals and lessons. They were ecstatic at the chance to finally see Paris in all of its glory.

"Can you believe how much we bought?"

Rene laughed. "Your father should be pleased with the bill."

"Half of it is for my parents. They should be happy with the bargains I found."

Rene cursed to himself as he dropped a package. Before he could retrieve it, Angelina quickly pulled him out of the way as several wagons began riding through the cobble streets.

"Thank you."

"What is that?"

Angelina had never seen the sight before. Wagons traveled, one behind the other. Different colored flags and words were skillfully painted and put onto the side of them. Horses were decorated with beautiful sashes and ribbons.

"It is the carnival."

"The carnival?" Angelina had never bore witness to anything as extravagant as what she saw before her. "In Paris?"

"They come every few years."

"I have never seen anything like it."

"They will be set up by sundown. I can take you, if you wish."

She smiled as she continued to watch. "Maybe…"

As a wagon passed, Angelina thought she heard the weeping of a child. Before she could realize it, the caravan stopped and continued through the town with Parisians watching.

"They will be in town for at least a week."

"It will be interesting to see." Angelina began toward the opera house once again. Rene followed suit. "Maybe we will go some time this week."

"It is a sight, Angelina. You will enjoy it."

"Of that, I have no doubt."

* * *

Angelina traveled down the winding staircase. But before she could reach the edge of the lake, she stopped short.

"Damn them all!"

Looking up, she watched Erik throw sheet music everywhere. Knocking over a candle bra, Erik continued on his tirade.

"How dare they come to Paris!"

"Erik?"

"They sent me to this fate!"

"Erik!"

Erik stopped for the briefest of moments to look upon Angelina. "You should not be here."

"What has happened?"

"You would not understand." He quickly turned away from her and began tearing down the pictures he had sketched. "Go."

"I came to tell you something."

"I know of the carnival."

Angelina cringed as another candle bra was sent crashing to the ground. She was afraid to move toward him but felt the pain in every step he took.

"It is not good news?"

"Far from it. Now go!"

Again, she cringed as he yelled at her and sent it echoing throughout the lair. A single tear rolled down her cheek. He was not angry at her but with something else. She would not take it personally but it was a sting to her heart – never the less.

"Tell me what has happened."

"You will not understand."

"You do not know that until you tell me."

"The tale is long and boring. I will not tell you the details."

"The carnival has upset you."

"Beyond anything you can imagine."

Angelina stepped toward him and watched him hunch over as sobs racked his body. Stepping up the stairs, Angelina gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Please, tell me. I wish to help you."

"The pain is already done. The traveling caravan has just reopened a wound that I wished to have kept healed."

"Then let me help you bandage it once again." She knew he would not look at her. "Tell me of the traveling caravan."

"No…" He moved from her gentle touch. Erik knew that telling the story would bring her closer to him then ever. It would bring his past to the surface. "…you cannot know the tale."

"You are afraid to tell me or afraid of the memory?"

"Both."

"I will not run. I will not tell a soul. But, Erik, you cannot keep this bottled inside of you. Someone must know."

"One already knows. That is enough."

"Did they hurt you in some way?"

"A child that feared everything was nothing more then just a child with nothing left to live."

Erik turned toward her. Tears streamed down his cheeks. Angelina's heart broke as she looked upon him. He was disheveled and unkempt. How long had he been like this?

"Please, Erik…tell me."

"I am the devil's child."

"I do not understand."

"I was a sideshow in the carnival. I was nothing more then a way to make money."

Angelina watched as he sat upon the floor. He could hear the people laughing all around him. It echoed in his ears and his mind. His hands grasped his head, trying to keep out the laughter.

Quickly rushing to his side, Angelina put her hands on his. "I am here, Erik."

"I can hear them laughing."

"They are no longer laughing. I promise you that."

"I remember the beating – the bruises that would form on my chest."

Tears were forming in Angelina's eyes. She could not begin to imagine the torment of Erik as a child.

"I had nothing, Angelina. I was nothing."

"You are so much more then that now." She smiled at him – hoping to reassure him that everything was different. "You are a musical genius. You are not some sideshow act. You are a great singer and dancer. You are my teacher."

Erik looked into Angelina's eyes. "I am nothing more then a freak."

Putting both of her hands on his face, Angelina shook her head. "You are beautiful."

He shook his head as tears continued to move down his cheeks. "No, I am not. You cannot begin to imagine what I am."

"I know the man that is sitting in front of me." There had to be something she could say. "They do not matter any more. You matter. Your music matters…I matter."

Erik's eyes went wide as she looked at him. "Angelina…"

"Tell me what I can do to make this pain go away."

"There is nothing you can do."

"There must be something. This memory cannot be ignored."

"I have pushed it aside for years. Once the traveling caravan leaves, it will be nothing more than a memory again."

"You must conquer this. You cannot brush it aside."

He knew in his heart that she was right. But it was not something he wanted her to worry about. It was not something he wanted her to know about.

"It is not your concern."

"It pains me to see you this way, Erik. Please, let me help you."

Her hand moved from his cheek to his hand and grasped it. Erik had never felt better then in the moment he had now. Angelina wanted to help but it was his pride that stopped him from letting her.

"I am sorry, Angelina. But you cannot help me." He rose – leaving her warmth.

"Please, just leave."

"No."

She was being stubborn and it was unbecoming of her. Erik sighed and looked at the organ in front of him. He had become so much more in the years after the carnival.

"Madam Giry saved me."

Angelina looked up at him. The great man that had inspired her seemed more like a child now then the teacher she had come to know and love.

"Tell me the tale, Erik."

"I was trapped in a cage for years. All I had was an old monkey with a pair of cymbals." He turned to her and did not see pity in her eyes as he thought he would see. He saw despair and a longing to help. Bending down to her, Erik sat in front of her. "One night, we stopped in Paris. A group of dancers from the opera house came. I remember looking through my mask at the time…"

Erik shuttered, remembering the burlap sack that served as his shield from the world. All there were was two eye holes that let him see all of the faces that laughed at him.

"…at a young girl who stood by the cage. She had a look on her face unlike any I had ever seen before."

"Madam Giry?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

Erik swallowed hard, knowing what was coming up next. He wanted it to be nothing more then a bad memory. "The man, who was my keeper, beat me until he could remove my mask without protest."

Angelina cringed. A tear ran down her cheek.

"I had enough. After the crowd had left, the keeper began to count his gold coin. I killed him."

Both looked at each other. Angelina understood that he had done it for survival. Being locked in a cage for days even years would drive anyone to do what he did.

"I killed the man, Angelina."

"I do not fault you for it."

Erik was shocked by the statement. The keeper at the carnival was not the last. "I killed a man…"

"…to survive. Erik, you were caged like an animal. You had grown tired."

She held his hand and entwined their fingers. Angelina smiled at him, hoping to lessen the pain and to let him know that she would not run.

"Madam Giry had seen the act. After a mob began to form to find the murderer, she hid me beneath the opera house."

"That must have been awful."

"Although it was dark and lonely, it became my home – my shelter."

"It made you the man you are today." She looked around at the pictures and the sheets of music. "You taught yourself?"

"I taught myself all I could. I became an architect, a musician, and an artist." He slightly smiled. "I became what I always wanted to be."

"A genius."

"I would not call myself that."

"Then I will." She finally knew the tale of Erik. It was a horrible tale and one that she hoped that be forgotten in time. "Let us return to the carnival."

"No."

"Erik, you must get through the pain. If you do not, it will haunt you."

"Let me block it, as I have all these years."

"I cannot let you do that."

He screamed and stood once again. "You are trying my patience, Angelina. I told you that I do not want to revisit the past."

"Then I will leave you to your memories and solitude. If you do not wish me to help you, then I will not."

Angelina stood and began toward the stairs.

"Angelina…wait…"

She stopped, hearing the voice. _Childlike…it is as if he has returned to his childhood years._

"You are right. I must face this demon."

Angelina turned to him and looked at Erik standing there. He seemed to stand taller and more proud.

"I cannot let a traveling caravan force me into the darkness that I have hidden in for so long."

"You wish for me to help you?"

"Yes."

Angelina began toward him slowly – her feet guiding her to the man who seemed helpless yet strong at the same time.

"What do you wish me to do?"

"Come with me to the carnival. Help me face my past."

She nodded. "You cannot just go there dressed as you are."

"Of this I know."

Moving toward the organ, Angelina opened a panel and withdrew the black opera mask she had purchased for him. Holding it out, he looked at her confused.

"Find a cape with a hood. This mask will seem more like a shadow under it then the white mask."

Erik looked at the mask and gently took it from her hand. Turning from her, he took off the white one and replaced it by the black. Angelina turned from him, giving him the privacy that he needed.

"I will retrieve my cape."

She watched as Erik went into his bedroom and returned in a few moments. She approached him and raised the hood on it. Nodding her head, Angelina smiled.

"I will be with you the entire time, Erik. I will not leave your side."

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "Thank you."

There were many more memories he wished to reveal to her. But with the return of the carnival, this was one he must conquer without question. The thoughts of his past had flooded his mind – Christine, Raoul, the death of the carnival master. It came back to him and wanted to haunt him for all time.

But with Angelina, he found strength that he never thought he would have. She would help him go through the storm and back into the light. He smiled as they began toward the boat.

_Traveling caravan be damned…_

He was returning to his roots. It would be there that he would find the strength to carry on. And hopefully into the future.


	42. The Devil's Child

**A/N:** _Erik wanted me to tell you that unfortunately he cannot take credit for a song in this chapter. As much as he would love to say he was the composer of the piece, he is not. The credit goes to Josh Groban and Charlotte Church._

_As for the rest of our story, we would like to thank Phoenix for scribing for us. She has been wonderful in this process. We hope that you will continue to read and review and tell others of our tale._

_Tears are coming to my eyes just thinking of this chapter. Please, enjoy. Have a good weekend._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 40 – The Devil's Child**

Erik had not anticipated the crowd to be as large as it was. Children and adults were all out for the event Paris had not seen in years. Toys, food, and other goods were in the arms of the patrons walking throughout the carnival.

Angelina had been right. The black mask he wore seemed more like a shadow then anything else. The hood concealed the rest of his face from the world around him.

"Are you alright?"

Her voice was light and barely auditable to Erik's ears. The sounds and sights had him distracted. Memories were flooding him unlike anything else ever had. Her hand quickly grasped his and turned him toward her.

"Erik, tell me now. We still have time to turn back."

"I…" He shook his head. There was no turning back now. The wound that he tried to close was now too open. "…no, Angelina. There is no turning back."

Angelina slowly nodded her head. "Very well."

Glancing up, she noticed the sideshows beginning and the fun part of the carnival ending. Her stomach became full of knots. She did not feel like herself and could just imagine what Erik was going through. Angelina felt him stop cold as he noticed what they were approaching.

"Angelina…"

"I am right here – by your side."

Angelina jumped as she heard a voice beside her.

"Come see the wonders of the world, child."

Erik drew her closer, recognizing the voice. It was a gypsy woman who was in charge of reading palms and the crystal ball. Instead of the black wavy hair he remembered, it was now peppered with gray and white. The midnight blue dress she wore made her even more haunting.

Angelina felt his warm touch yet felt the need for her to be close. He knew this place more than she did. Erik knew the pits she could fall into and never be found again.

"Stay close to me." His head was near hers. "Things have changed since I have been here last."

"Lead the way, Erik."

Erik took her hand and grasped it. He made sure that he would not lose her along the way.

"Hey! I know you!"

Erik stopped cold. He did not move as Angelina's head slowly turned. Stumbling through the crowd was an old man with a whisky bottle. It sloshed from the mouth of it, onto the grease covered pants he wore.

"Describe him to me, Angelina."

"He is an old man that is very unkempt." Angelina nearly choked on the alcohol the man had on his breath as he approached. "And very intoxicated."

Erik slowly turned and looked at the old man as he nearly fell on Angelina. Gently putting Angelina behind him, Erik looked into the bloodshot eyes of the old man before him.

"I have seen you before."

"You have not, Monsieur."

"Sure I have! You are that man…" The old man hiccupped and nearly fell over. "You are that man…"

Angelina shook her head and tugged on Erik's cape. "Let us go, Erik. The man does not know you."

Erik held up a hand and silenced Angelina. He did not recognize the old man but he knew that things changed. "Where have you seen me?"

"I have seen you at…"

Before the old man could finish his statement, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and fell face first into the mud. Erik grinned.

"Silence at last."

Turning, he noticed a large banner hanging in front of a blood red tent. Erik's back tensed as he noticed what it read: _The Devil's Child_.

"Erik?"

"Come."

Erik began toward the tent with a pace Angelina had never seen before. Paying several francs, Erik pulled back the tent flap and let Angelina inside.

Angelina let her eyes adjust to the light as Erik stepped up behind her. She listened as his breath caught. Looming in front of her was a large cage with ropes separating the crowd from whatever lay inside.

Slowly approaching, Angelina watched as the patrons began pointing and laughing. Finally reaching the ropes, she peered inside and saw the sight before her.

"My God…it is merely a boy."

The young boy, no more then seven, had a burlap sack over his head. Two eye holes were cut out so the boy could see around him. Hay seemed to be his bed. Tears came to Angelina's eyes as she looked at the sight in front of her. The laughs did not stop as the boy seemed to cower in fear.

"Erik?"

She turned and noticed Erik stood at the entrance of the tent. His stature was unlike anything she had ever seen before. He stood in fear. His entire body was tense and unmoving. Tears ran down his cheeks as if they were a waterfall.

Approaching him, Erik took a step back from her. She held up her hands, trying to assure him that she would not harm him.

"Erik, I will not harm you."

"All it is, is a prison. All day, every day."

Angelina closed her eyes, not wanting him to see the hurt in them. She could not begin to imagine the pain he went through as a child. Just seeing the boy in the cage now, made her long to help him. She could now understand why Madam Giry saved Erik.

"You are no longer in the cage, Erik. You are free."

He looked into Angelina's eyes and saw salvation. There would be a way to redeem his past, his present, and possibly his future. Taking her hand once again, he allowed her to lead him over to the ropes. Peering inside, he did not see the boy caged in there now. All he saw was himself when he was about the age of the boy inside.

"Angelina, I do not know if I can do this."

"I am your strength. Do what you must." She squeezed his hand, assuring him that all that he feared would be feared by both.

"We are closing now."

Erik turned and saw a new gypsy heading the sideshow. The gypsy seemed to be much younger than the man who took care of him.

Angelina watched as the crowd began to dissipate. She looked up at Erik. "We must return tomorrow."

"No, I will not be able to return. I must do this now."

She watched as the gypsy stepped outside of the tent. Fearing the worst, she watched as Erik climbed under the rope and sat beside the cage. Angelina's heart stopped as Erik held out his hand for the boy to hold. A single tear ran down Erik's cheek. He began speaking to the boy but Angelina could not make out what he was saying.

Her heart was slowly breaking. Two people so hurt because of something they had no control over, were sitting in the one place neither of them should have been. The jingling of keys left Angelina searching for a thought.

Seizing the moment, Angelina left Erik's side to stand by the tent entrance. Using skill and tact, Angelina bumped into the gypsy and stumbled outside. The gypsy looked at her with disgust.

"Watch where you are going, little girl."

"Sorry, Monsieur. I must have tripped."

Quickly running away from the gypsy, Angelina ran around back and lifted the bottom of the tent up. Ducking underneath, Angelina rushed over to Erik as he looked at her.

"What are you doing, Angelina?"

"Saving a boy's life." Retrieving the keys from her cloak, she began to search for the right key.

Erik watched as she began to unlock the cage. "Did you steal those keys?"

"Yes. And I would do it again – without question." Angelina crawled into the cage as the boy backed into the corner. She held out a hand, trying to show the boy she meant no harm. "I am not going to cause you harm."

Erik looked around – watching to see if anyone would enter the tent. He watched as Angelina carefully tried to get the boy to come to her. "Angelina, we are going to get caught."

"Just a few more moments." Angelina was praying to God that they would get out safe. The boy needed to be saved just as Erik was. She could see the bruises upon the boy's chest and back. "I promise you, I will keep you safe."

Angelina watched, as the boy quickly skidded past her and into Erik's arms. She crawled out from the cage and locked it once again. Carefully, she approached the gypsy and placed the keys at his feet. Looking at the sight behind her, Angelina almost burst into tears. Erik held the boy close to his chest as the boy continued to cry in his arms.

"We must go, Angelina."

Angelina quickly nodded her head and rushed over to the opposite side of the tent. Lifting the end of it, she allowed Erik and the boy to leave first. She quickly followed suit.

Erik wrapped his large cloak around the boy – to conceal him as they left the carnival. Angelina smiled to herself – proud of the act that she just committed. Although there would be severe ramifications, it did not matter to her in the least. She saved a boy – a boy that would grow-up to be a genius, just like Erik.

* * *

Erik stood in the entrance of his bedroom. He watched as Angelina tucked the young boy into the bed. She sat beside him and smiled down at him.

"In the morning, I guarantee you that you will begin a new life."

"Why did you save me?"

Angelina smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "Because you have a heart and a soul that should not be wasted. Get some rest. You have many days to live. You have many to make up for."

Angelina stood and began toward the door when she noticed Erik. He smiled at her as he began toward her. Gently kissing her on the forehead, he looked at the boy, frightened by his surroundings.

"Let me tend to the boy. I will be with you momentarily."

She nodded her head and began to leave until she heard the rustle of sheets. Turning around, she leaned on the doorframe and watched as Erik smiled at the young boy.

"You are afraid to go to sleep?"

"Yes, Monsieur. Although the nice girl told me I should not be, I still am. Nightmares fill my mind."

"I understand. You will have many nights where this will happen."

"Will they ever go away?"

He brushed back the hair from the boy's face. Erik knew that much would have to be done before he could be given to a proper home. The deformity on the boy's face was not as severe as his. There was no excuse as to why the child was where he was.

"In time, you will find other things to replace them with. There will be many nights that you will have pleasant dreams. Or dreams of things to come. They will overpower any nightmares that you will have."

"And you experience this?"

Erik smiled. "I do now."

"What brought this to you? I mean, how are you able to overcome your nightmares?"

"I write music. And a talented singer sings my songs far beyond expectations." Erik knew Angelina was still standing in the doorway. He smiled as he saw Angelina blush. "Music makes all of my pain go away."

"Will you show me?"

"I do not know…"

"Can you sing me to sleep?"

Tears streamed down Angelina's face at the boy's plea. Would Erik sing?

Holding out a hand, Erik beckoned Angelina to him. Angelina did not resist. Her hand grasped his and she stood along side him.

"Do you remember the song I taught you?"

"I believe so."

"If you begin it, I will join you."

Angelina nodded her head. The boy in the bed tossed and turned for a brief moment before becoming comfortable. It seemed as though music filled the room. He smiled as it surrounded him and made him safe.

"I pray you'll be our eyes…and watch us where we go…and help us to be wise…in times that when we don't know…let this be our prayer. As we go away…lead us to a place…guide us with your grace…to a place where we'll be safe."

The child could feel his eyes growing heavy. It was not until Erik's voice began, did the child truly realize that the nightmares he feared would go away as Erik had promised.

Erik began his verse, knowing that Angelina would compliment him. "La luce che tu dai."

"I pray we'll find your light."

"Nel cuore restera."

"And hold it in our hearts."

"A ricordarci che."

"When stars go out each night."

"L'eterna stella sei." Erik paused, letting the note sink in. "Nella mia preghiera."

"Let this be our prayer."

"Quanta fede c'e."

"When shadows fill our day."

Their voices combined and echoed throughout the room. "Lead us to a place…guide us with your grace…give us faith so we'll be safe."

Erik looked down at the boy and noticed he was sleeping peacefully. Squeezing Angelina's hand, he led her out to where they would not disturb the sleeping child.

"Your voice had heart behind it tonight, Erik."

"I felt free, for the first time in my life." He looked at Angelina and smiled. "You risked your life for a child."

"I risked my life to save a boy that wanted to live his life as he should." She smiled back. "I could not save you, Erik. So I saved that child instead."

Putting a hand to her face, Erik drew her close and looked down at her. He had never felt such love for a woman in his entire existence. The consequences would be severe but he would help Angelina through them if she needed.

"No, Angelina. You saved me. You helped me retrieve some of my soul from the past I could not let go." He wiped away the tears that ran down her cheek. "Thank you."

Silence hung in the air like a thick fog. But it was not deafening as it usually was. Angelina and Erik both understood one another. Their love for a child brought them closer together than ever. It was only a matter of time before fate found its way into both of their hearts and brought them to the place they needed to be – with one another.


	43. The Repercussions of One’s Actions

**A/N:** _Phoenix is beginning on the last few chapters of our story. It is a sad day but a happy one for you, the readers. She will bring you an ending that hopefully you would not have seen coming. Once this story is finished, Phoenix assures me that she has another Phantom story in the works. She hopes that you will continue to read her stories. I know I will be._

_One's actions must be either ignored or punished. For my poor Angelina, I am afraid that it might be the latter. Read on, my fellow readers. As always, read and review. The stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 41 – The Repercussions of One's Actions**

Angelina walked down the corridor. Faces and eyes were trained upon her as if she were marching toward her own funeral. She felt small and insignificant. Her body was hunched over and her head hung low. She was trying to ignore the stares and the whispers that followed.

"She saved the boy."

"Supposedly."

"Do you doubt it?"

Before she could put her hand on the door knob, the door opened and Arnaud stood there. His eyes seemed to pierce her but did not hold anger. Gesturing her inside, Arnaud closed the door behind her leaving the other dancers and stage hands to ponder what was going on inside.

Angelina stood there and saw the man she had stolen the keys from – the gypsy. Meg watched as the man pointed at Angelina.

"That is her! That is the girl who took the boy."

Angelina looked up into the eyes of Arnaud. "Angelina, please sit down."

She sat down in the chair that was directly behind her. Making no sound, she looked at the gypsy without any fear. There was no turning back now. Erik had seen to it that the boy was safely on a ship and sent to a family in America. He would be taken care of by a rich family that wanted badly to have a child but could not conceive.

"Monsieur, please sit down." Meg begged. The gypsy was growing more and more angry with every second he saw Angelina. The boy was one of the more profitable parts of the carnival. Without him, there would not be the popularity the carnival needed.

"The leader of the carnival seems to think that you have taken one of his children. I told him that it was not possible." Arnaud looked at Angelina. There was no emotion on her face. It scared him to no end.

"I did, Monsieur Bellmonte. I will not deny it."

Meg and Arnaud looked at each other in shock. They did not expect Angelina to admit to such an act. Angelina had been a wild child and had gotten into a lot of trouble in her youth. But both Raoul and Christine had thought it was far behind her.

"And I would do it again."

"I want her arrested, Monsieur Bellmonte! I will not stand for it."

Angelina did not tremble in fear. It felt good to have it off of her chest. The boy had been in Erik's care for almost three days before gossip had begun about the boy being missing. Police had searched all over Paris and did not find a trace of him. Erik had assured her that the boy would be safe until he could find a way to get him to his new family.

The boy did not bear many scars. There was a long scar down the right side of his face that had continued over his eye. He was far from being the Devil's Child. The boy merely had an accident when he was a child and paid the consequences.

"Monsieur, please. I am sure Angelina will be able to help you retrieve the boy."

"I do not know where he is." Angelina smiled up at Arnaud. "He seems to have…vanished."

Knocking over the chair behind him, the gypsy stood with his anger finally reaching its boiling point. "I want my child!"

"He is not yours!" Angelina stood. "You abused him! There were bruises up and down his rib cage. His left eye was swollen and his right arm broken! He had a family and a home and you took that away from him because you thought the scar on his face would serve your purpose!"

"Angelina…"

"Monsieur Bellmonte, I saved the boy from humiliation and the ignorance of man. I will not be held accountable for something that should have been done long ago."

Silence hung in the air until the gypsy had stepped in front of Angelina. Her breath did not catch as the gypsy had hoped. The girl who stood in front of him had nerves of steel but would be broken in a heartbeat once she was arrested.

"I want this girl arrested."

"Then arrest me, Monsieur. If I had my actions to do over again, I would."

The gypsy screamed in a tongue none of them understood. Moving along side Arnaud, the gypsy looked down at him in utter disgust. "I want her punished severely. I will not tolerate anything else."

"I assure you, Monsieur, she will be handled."

The gypsy gave one last glance at Angelina before storming out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him as Angelina continued to stare off into space. Arnaud moved in front of her, knowing that her actions would have consequences.

"This incident will be told to your parents."

"I do not fear that, Monsieur. I did what I did and I will suffer the repercussions of my actions."

"Do you not regret what you did?"

"No, I do not."

Arnaud sighed and turned away from her. Meg watched as his back tensed, knowing what he must do.

"Will you tell me where you sent the boy?"

"No." Angelina smiled. "He is safe and happy. That is all that matters."

"You will suffer to save a boy?"

"Yes, Monsieur."

Arnaud turned toward her once again with tears in his eyes. "I am afraid, Angelina, that you will not like the outcome of this. I hope that you did the right thing in your eyes because the suffering that will incur will hurt you for quite some time."

* * *

Erik sat at his organ, playing a melody that closely resembled a death march. Angelina seemed to step down every stair to the beat of the notes. Erik did not turn but knew she was approaching.

"I heard the gypsy even in the depths of the opera house."

Angelina smiled. "He was angry."

He turned and looked at Angelina standing there. Her posture showed that she was proud and strong.

"I take it that it went well…"

"No, it did not."

Rising from the bench, Erik began toward her. "What did they ask you?"

"If I had done it and where the boy was."

"What did you tell them?"

"That I did it and I have no idea where he is."

Erik smiled. "You were strong."

"I would not take back my actions. I believed what I did was right."

His hands gently took a hold of her shoulders. He looked deep into her eyes and saw pain behind them. "What action did they take?"

"The next opera that is to be performed – I will not take part in."

Erik's breath caught. They would deny her the one thing she loved – to star in an opera. "Angelina, tell them where the boy is."

"No!"

She pulled away from him. Her actions were warranted. The boy had been suffering and someone had to alleviate him from the pain.

"You will suffer the entire time you are away from the stage."

"In my heart, I know what I did was right."

"So you will suffer…"

"You would do the same thing, Erik. I know you would."

Erik knew he would have. Angelina had acted before him. Fury was building inside of him after seeing the boy in the cage. Before he could put together a coherent thought, Angelina was already unlocking the cage.

"This gives me time…"

He looked at her curiously. "Time for what?"

"Time to practice – to perfect my craft. I want to learn it all, Erik. Teach me everything and I promise you that I will not let you down."

Erik took several steps toward her and put a hand to her face. The woman standing before him could not be defined with words. Angelina was an angel that no one saw. She was his student, friend, confidant…

_And love of my life…_

"I will teach you everything you wish to know. Day or night, come to me and I will teach you what you wish."

Her arms wrapped around him and her head pressed against his chest. He let her linger there until he could take no more.

"Angelina, you must return. I am sure Meg will want to speak with you about this matter."

"You are right…" Bringing herself back from his touch, Angelina smiled up at him. "…I must return. Erik, please do not think I regret any of my actions. I would save that boy's life a thousand times over. I will not be suffering. I will be living."

After kissing him lightly on the cheek, Angelina began to ascend the staircase. Erik watched her go. He was proud of her – more then he could profess. As he began into his private sanctuary, his thoughts began to overwhelm him. A tear ran down his cheek as he pulled the velvet curtain closed behind him.

* * *

"I have meaning to tell you this for some time…"

Erik stood in the middle of the room, pacing. The wig and mask that he usually donned seemed to have disappeared. The robe billowed around him as his pace seemed to be filled with meaning and purpose.

"I am not the man you think me to be." Erik took a deep breath. "But I am the man who loves you more than life itself. There have been things in my past that I am not proud of. I have taken the lives of several men, have burned down an opera house, and have frightened the woman whom I thought I loved."

Falling to his knees, tears streamed down his cheeks. "I am so sorry, Angelina! I have loved you since I took care of you that night you were injured. I was unsure of my feelings – that they were still lingering because of how much you look like your mother. But now I know that they are real more than anything in this world. You are my angel. You are the woman who has saved this tortured soul."

Looking up, he smiled. "I love you. I love you…"

Erik put his head in his hands and cried. The figure before him did not make a sound or move a muscle. It seemed to stand still – frightened by what he had just said.

Standing up in a flash of fury, Erik knocked over the mannequin. He watched it sink into the watery depths below. The love that he professed was not to Angelina but to a mere figure that he imagined was her. Erik screamed in agony.

Would there ever be a time where he would be able to tell the woman he loved that he loved her? Could she love him in return?

_God, Angelina…I love you._

He fell, once again, to his knees. Letting himself fall to the floor, Erik cried himself to sleep. The regret of telling a mannequin instead of the woman herself filled him with indescribable feelings. There would be a day he found the courage. He just hoped it would not be too late.


	44. Cracks in the Ice

**A/N:** _Love is a strange and mysterious entity. It is always there – hovering and torturing one's soul. Why must it condemn me? Will it ever set me free as it has many others? Maybe this is the start of my journey. Maybe this is where things will change. Hopefully Phoenix has captured how I feel. Enjoy this chapter. And as always, read and review. After Light has ended, Phoenix assures me that she has started a brand new Phantom story. Please continue to read her work. It is a true joy to work with someone like her. The stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 42 – Cracks in the Ice**

Angelina walked with little purpose through the streets of Paris. Over the past weeks, Angelina had not felt sadness when she saw the dance company on stage performing the new opera. No pangs of jealousy entered her when she saw Brigitte take center stage once again.

All was right with the world. It had only been several weeks since she had saved the boy from the traveling caravan. Her soul felt free and alive for the first time. Feeling as though she accomplished something, she continued to go to Erik to receive lessons. Erik had hinted here and there about letting Arnaud know about the boy, Angelina refused to hear anything of it. Her decision would stand and there would be no regrets.

Her days and nights had been filled with laughter and song. Erik had made her happier than she ever had been in a very long time. She had never seen him smile so much. It seemed as though a part of him had been set free. Angelina feared to ask him what had changed. But she reveled in the warmth of it. It made her happy to see Erik feel alive.

"Watch out!"

Angelina was knocked out of her thoughts as a Parisian shouted to her. Traveling at a fast rate, a carriage seemed to be out of control. The horse that drew it seemed to have been frightened by something. The driver continued to try and keep a hold of the reigns but did not seem to be slowing the horse any.

The street Angelina was standing on was narrow and there would not be enough room for the carriage to pass by her. Angelina quickly jumped out of the way and lost her balance. The ground beneath her gave way and she tumbled down the side of the hill.

Angelina's scream pierced the air as the ice she landed on began to crack.

"Do not move!"

She watched as the man who had shouted to her began racing toward her. The ice continued to moan under her and she watched as cracks began to form around her. Pain racked her. Her body had hit the ice harder than she first thought.

"Please, Monsieur! Help me!"

The man continued toward her as Angelina screamed. The ice gave way and swallowed her into the frigid water below. Her tiny hands clawed to reach the surface. By the time she found her way to the top, the ice had already formed over the hole she fell through.

Her breath was leaving her body. She was longing to gasp for oxygen. Coldness surrounded her and wanted to drag her to the dark depths below. She could see the man above her desperate trying to break through the ice.

Her lungs were burning and her mind was quickly growing dark. The last thing she heard was the ice being broken through. Darkness claimed her as she began to fall.

"Quickly!"

An arm grasped her but she was too cold to realize it. Her body was quickly brought through the small hole the man had made.

"Who is she?"

"I believe I know. We must act quickly. She does not have much time."

* * *

"Madam Giry!"

Madam Giry quickly turned and watched as Rene ran with a young woman in his arms. As he began to grow closer, she recognized the figure.

_Angelina…_

Water dripped onto the floor as Rene held out Angelina to her. "She fell in the river. Two men saved her. I have tried everything, Madam. I cannot get her warm."

"We must bring her to Erik."

Rene's eyes went wide and looked upon Madam Giry in disbelief. "Erik?"

"I know you know him, Rene. If you wish to save Angelina, we must bring her to him. He will know what to do."

Madam Giry knew there was no time to spare. Angelina was paler than she would have liked. She feared that it was too late to save Angelina. Her body temperature was below what it should be.

"Lead the way, Madam."

Without hesitation and thought, they quickly moved into Angelina's room and pulled back the mirror. The corridor before them was long and dark. Today it would seem longer than usual.

"Come, we must hurry."

Madam Giry quickly stepped in front of him and grabbed a lit torch. It shrouded Angelina in darkness but lit the way for both Madam Giry and Rene.

* * *

Erik wrote furiously as he paced. The music he wrote was not turning out the way he had it in his head. The notes would usually write themselves but it seemed as though they were being restrained somehow.

"Erik!"

Quickly looking up, he watched as Madam Giry stepped from the staircase. Rene followed soon after. He seemed to be carrying someone in his arms. Erik's heart stopped once he saw who was in Rene's care.

_Angelina…_

The sheets of parchment dropped from his hands as he raced toward Rene. Madam Giry watched the expressions on Erik's face. Taking her from Rene's arms, he began toward his bedroom.

"She fell in the river, Erik. The man who rescued her told me that she jumped out of the way of an out of control carriage. The dirt beneath her gave way…"

"How long was she in the river?"

"Erik?" Rene could not think.

"How long was she in the river!"

"A few moments."

Madam Giry and Rene quickly followed Erik into the bedroom. Erik gently put Angelina on the sheets. The silk under her was cold and she shivered. Pulling the sheets from under her, he tossed them to the floor.

"Madam Giry, if you would find me some blankets. These sheets will not help."

Without a word, Madam Giry did as she was told. Rene stood there helpless as Erik removed the drenched cloak from Angelina's body. Throwing it on the floor, Erik looked at how helpless she looked. Her lips were still blue and her skin a deathly white.

"Rene, do you carry a knife?"

"Yes…"

"Give it me."

There was no time to untie every tie on the dress and corset. The wet clothes needed to be removed from her body without delay. Rene handed Erik the blade. Erik's hand hesitated.

Madam Giry rushed into the room with the blankets. Moving onto the bed beside Angelina, she began to quickly cover Angelina with them. Noticing Erik's frightened expression, she noticed the blade in his hand. Grasping Erik's hand, she turned his face toward him.

"Keep the blankets over her. You do not need to see anything."

Erik nodded his head and began to cut the cloth from her body. Madam Giry held the blankets against Angelina's cold and damp frame. Turning away from Angelina, Erik stood and walked over to Rene. He could hear the damp clothes hit the floor. Turning, he watched as Madam Giry covered Angelina in the blankets.

Madam Giry walked over to the two men that held Angelina in the highest of regards. "You must stay with her, Erik. She will be hot one minute and cold the next. You must keep the blankets on her."

"Of this I know, Madam."

"Come Rene, she will be safe."

Madam Giry and Rene began out. Erik stood in the same spot for what seemed like an eternity. Finally gathering the strength, he approached the bed. Angelina's lips had finally turned back to a somewhat normal color.

Moving onto the bed, Erik stripped himself of his waist coat and shoes. Grabbing a spare blanket, Erik began to dry her hair, using it as a towel. She began to stir and started to try to kick the blankets from her body.

"No, Angelina…" Using his hands, he kept the blankets tight around her. "…you must keep them on."

"Cold…I am so cold."

Drawing her close, Erik held onto her. He tried to give her the warmth that she needed but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. Erik was receiving warmth that he never thought possible.

"Erik…" In a dreamlike state, Angelina put her tiny hand on his chest and over his heart. She listened to his heart beat. It was a steady rhythm that willed her to hang on.

"Shh…Angelina, you are safe. I am not leaving you."

"So cold…"

Not being able to take any more of her pleas, Erik lifted her from the bed and into his arms. He quickly wrapped the blankets around her, gently touching the soft bare skin on her back. It sent shivers down his spine. Angelina snuggled against him, taking in the warmth from his body. Erik gently began to rock her until he was absolutely sure that she was asleep.

* * *

Hours had passed since Angelina was brought to him. Color had begun to return to her cheeks and her lips had gone back to the deep rose color Erik had been accustomed to.

She had tossed and turned most of the time and Erik began to become fearful that she would never wake. Moving to his organ, and leaving her side, he began to play for her. He tried to listen to hear if there was any rustling of the sheets and there had been none. The music calmed her and assured her she was safe.

As he moved back into the bedroom, he could not believe the sight before him. Angelina was turned onto her side, her back facing the doorway. The blankets saw fit to cover the parts it needed to. Her milky white skin seemed to gleam in the candlelight. Erik could tell her chest was rising and falling with the beating of her heart.

Quietly approaching, Erik sat on the bed beside Angelina. His gloves had been removed hours before, gently caressing her cheeks to assure her he had not left her side. His hand hovered over the bare skin. Wanting to touch it, he knew that it would not be in his best interest.

_A touch, Erik. That is all it is._

His right hand pressed against her back and he heard her sigh. Without thought, he slowly began caressing the perfect skin. There was not a blemish or an imperfection anywhere on her back.

As Angelina turned the slightest bit, the blanket fell farther down her body and revealed the one thing Erik never thought he would see…

_The scar._

It was just as Angelina said it was. The scar lingered from the top of her chest and nearly down to the top of her hip. No doctor should have ever had to make an incision such as that. Erik knew that the scar would stretch as Angelina began to grow. But it was a scar that no woman should ever have on her body. It was a deep red toward the top and seemed to fade toward the bottom. The incision had been deep. It did not leave the flesh flat and whole. The scar, in fact, seemed to bubble and tear.

Tears came to his eyes as he continued to look at the scar. No wonder she had told him that she had her own scars to bear. He could feel the muscles in her back restrict as his cold hand moved from her back to the scar. She tensed for the briefest of moments. But soon, Angelina reacted to the touch, bringing her body against his hand. His hand did not stop. It continued down her body, causing her to sigh. Moving across the scar, Erik found it did not stop just above her hip. Continuing down the trail, he found that it continued over the firmness of her stomach.

Had Angelina lied to him? Was there more to the story then she was telling? Erik believed her when she said that she had heart problems when she was a child. But scars such as these did not come from an operation.

Caressing her stomach, Erik brought her close to him. He was not a surgeon but knew that the incisions of a doctor would be more precise and not leave marks such as these. The de Chagnys were distinguished people. They would not bring their daughter to a doctor that would butcher her body.

Rising from the bed, Angelina sighed at the loss of his touch. Covering her with the blanket, thoughts consumed Erik.

Who would do such a thing to a child? How had she received the scars? Would Angelina tell him the truth?

_Why should she tell you the truth when you will not tell your story?_

Moving out into the main part of the lair, he walked down the stairs from the bedroom and over to a velvet curtain. Pulling it back, a large full size mirror hung in front of him.

_You are a monster!_

_Kill the Opera Ghost!_

_We must destroy him!_

_Look at his face!_

Erik cringed as the voices seemed to echo all around him. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he was no longer the teacher that Angelina had come to know. He was a frightened and alone man that was nothing more than a monster. Stripping his shirt, he looked at the perfected chest. There was not an imperfection on his body. He had made sure that he was in shape and that his face was the only thing that was horrifying about him.

His hand hesitated at the edge of his mask. He had seen Angelina's imperfections. Although it was a scar he was sure she despised, he found it to be beautiful and did not take away from her beauty. Would she think the same of him?

_It is time to find out…_

Removing the mask and wig, Erik looked at the sight before him. The right side of his face was horrifying, even to him. His eye seemed to droop and fade into the ripples of his face. It was as if he were a wax figure that did not dry right. A mannequin that did not make it to a shop window. Placing his hand on it, he ran his fingers over the skin that had terrified Christine. The loss of hair was minimal. It was his face that he was most concerned about.

He could not deny what he was any longer. Angelina had to know. He had seen her scars it was time for her to see his.

_When she wakes, I will tell her. I will tell her of my deformity. If she runs, then there is nothing I can do. She must know._


	45. To Look Behind the Mask

**A/N:** _The chapters will come faster now. Phoenix has only one chapter left to write. There will be 53 chapters total. One of the chapters will be split into three parts because of the length._

_I know the subject of my scar had been brought up. I hope that this chapter answers the questions. If there are any more, do not hesitate to ask in your review. I will be happy to answer._

_As always, please read and review. Phoenix has asked Erik and I to remind you that she has a new Phantom story to post soon after Light is finished. She hopes that you will continue to read her work. I have read the first chapter and it is good. It is quite different from Light, but it is well worth the read._

_Enjoy. And the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

_P.S. Once again, the music used in this chapter does not belong to Phoenix, Erik, or myself. It belongs to the talented Monsieur Andrew Lloyd Webber. His talent exceeds all expectations. Thank you to him for writing such wonderful music._

**Chapter 43 – To Look Behind the Mask**

Her head pounded with no signs of relieving itself. It stirred her from the deep sleep she had found herself in. She did not want to leave the warmth of the blankets. They soothed her bare skin.

_Bare skin…!_

Angelina's eyes flew open and kept the blankets tight around her. Peering underneath, she quickly pulled them against her body.

_I am naked and I am in Erik's room…_

She vaguely remembered what happened. There were shouts and dirt and ice. She could remember trying to claw her way to the stop of the frigid water, her lungs burning and wanting air. The next thing she saw was darkness. Voices surrounded her and she could hardly make them out.

Music then filled her and brought her toward the light. Erik's voice filled her ears and kept her calm. There was a hand that caressed her side and she felt safe and something else she had never felt before. Her heart swelled at the contact, not wanting it to break away. But it had and a new void had been formed.

Erik had been with her for what seemed like days. Angelina could not even begin to imagine what day it was. She had missed practice and rehearsal. Gathering the blankets around her, she stood quietly and moved to retrieve her clothes. None were within sight. The closet seemed to be her only option.

Her skin still felt as though it were breaking apart. Her body ached and her head seemed to want to shut down as pain seared through every part of her. Angelina steadied herself against the bedpost before continuing on. The room spun around her. She closed her eyes tight, trying to settle not only her mind but her stomach as well.

Opening her eyes, she reached the closet without faltering. Looking inside, opulent suits adorned wooden hangers. Gently touching each one, she imagined Erik taking her to different parts of Paris elegantly dressed. She smiled, finding the hooded cape that she loved so much.

Digging through the closet more, she found a beautiful dress in the back. Taking it out, her jaw dropped at how beautifully made it was. Every detail was made to impress – the beadwork, the lace, the cut. The size seemed to be about the right size. Slipping it off of the hanger, Angelina unbuttoned the back of the dress and stepped in.

She stood in front of the mirror as she slowly began to button it up. The dress had been a perfect fit, just as she thought. The pale pink fabric hugged every curve in her body. It was as though it had been made for her. Angelina grabbed a few pins off of a nearby dresser and pinned back her caramel curly locks. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, her image did not impress her much. Her skin still looked clammy and pale. The icy cold water had done its damage. Suddenly, music filled the air and her heart. Turning, she slowly began toward the doorway.

Erik sat at his organ, his fingers gliding over the keys. The pipes vibrated with passion that had never before been felt. The ivory keys were being touched with the gentle motion of his fingers. He seemed to be caressing it rather than playing it. There was feeling behind the notes and gave each of his five senses something else to crave.

Angelina stood in the doorway, watching him and studying him. The robe billowed around him, hiding his figure from her. He was neat and kempt and seemed to be too engrossed in the music to notice she had woken. Standing still, she watched as the flames on the candles before her flickered to the beat of the music.

"No one would listen…no one but her…heard as the outcast hears…"

Turning her gaze from the flickering flames, Angelina listened to the sadness in Erik's voice.

"Shamed into solitude…shunned by the multitude…I learned to listen…in my dark, my heart heard music…"

His back tensed for the briefest of seconds. He sat up straighter, letting his fingers guide him through the music he had for so long wanted to sing.

"I long to teach the world…rise up and reach the world…no one would listen…I alone could hear the music…"

Tears were welling up in Angelina's eyes. She could not believe that Erik felt that way about himself. It was as if he was allowing her to hear his most inner thoughts.

"Then, at last, a voice in the gloom…seemed to cry 'I hear you'…I hear your fears…your torment and your tears…"

Her feet seemed to have a will of their own. They began to bring her toward the organ and the man that had begun to bare his soul.

"She saw my loneliness…shared in my emptiness…no one would listen…no one but her…heard as the outcast hears…"

Angelina could hear Erik shudder. His emotions were building and she could feel them in the lingering notes of the song. Just a few feet from him, Angelina reached out a hand…

"No one would listen…no one but her…heard as the outcast hears."

Tears streamed down Angelina's cheeks. She could feel his heart break as the last note was played. Before she could lay a hand on Erik's shoulder, she watched him turn his face toward her.

"You are awake."

Angelina could barely nod her head. "Yes."

Wiping away her tears, Erik took her outstretched hand and kissed the back of it. "Many were worried that you would never wake."

"How long have I been…?"

"Almost a week."

Angelina's head spun at the news. _A week? I have been unconscious for a week?_

"I have taken care of you, Angelina. I assure you, all you needed was rest. Your fever broke early on. Your body needed time to heal and become what it once was."

Erik had noticed the dress she wore. It was to be a present later on just so he could see her smile. He had not expected her to wake so soon. The dress shop was still tailoring several dresses he had Rene order. They would be ready the next morning but there was no need for them to rush as Rene had told them to.

"I see you found the dress."

"It is beautiful."

"It pales in comparison to the beauty that wears it."

Angelina looked into the eyes of Erik as her cheeks grew hot. Erik reached out a hand and brushed away the lingering tears upon her cheek.

"Erik, your song…"

"I would not have played it if I knew you were awake."

"You revealed to me things that I never thought possible." She squeezed the hand that had kept a hold of hers. "You showed me feelings that you have told no one."

"You do not know that."

"Yes, I do. I could feel your pain…your anguish…your…"

Silencing her, he laid his finger upon her rose colored lips. "There is something I must tell you."

"The song said it all."

"The song merely brushed the surface of what I need to tell you." Letting go of her hand, he took a few steps back toward the darkness he had lived in for so long. "What do you know of the Phantom of the Opera?"

Angelina looked at him curiously. "He is a myth, a legend in his own right. He terrorizes opera houses to satisfy his lust for flesh and blood."

Erik cringed, knowing that the truth was not going to be as easy as he had hoped. "What if I told you that the Phantom is not a myth and certainly not a legend?"

"Erik, you of all people should not believe in the Phantom of the Opera. He is merely a tale told to children to frighten them. They know not to lurk in the depths of the opera house."

"Who told you the tale of the Phantom?"

"My father, of course. He loved to tell me ghost stories. Alexander was a boy who was about adventure. I loved to be frightened."

"My first home was not this opera house. I lived beneath the Opera Populaire."

Angelina searched her memory. The name of the opera house was familiar to her. She could not place it.

"There had been many talents that had gone through the corridors. I had fallen in love with a beautiful young dancer who turned into the most exquisite singer…"

Angelina watched him as he began to walk throughout his lair. She felt as though he did not want to keep eye contact with her. The feeling made her uneasy as she continued to watch him.

"…I terrorized the opera house to make sure she had a secure spot as the lead…"

Angelina gasped. The sound seemed to echo throughout the lair. Erik's head lowered as he continued his tale.

"…I killed, Angelina…I killed two men. One was a drunken man who seemed only interested in how the dancers undressed than the work that he was to do."

"And the other?"

Erik did not have the strength to tell her.

"The other?"

"Was for my own benefit."

The words were a blow to her heart. She felt weak and dizzy. Steadying herself, Angelina watched as the man before her seemed to grow smaller.

"They hated me, Angelina. I was shunned, forced to live in darkness just as I am now."

"That does not make what you did right."

"I have tried to atone for what I have done. But for the acts that I have committed, only in the afterlife can I be redeemed."

Looking up at her, Erik watched as Angelina's eyes glowed from the candlelight around her. He shook his head.

_This is not how I envisioned this going in my mind…_

"You saved a boy from a cage just a few weeks ago…" Beginning back toward her, Erik was once again gathering the courage to tell her what he needed to. "…he was known as the Devil's Child."

Still reeling from what Erik had told her, she merely nodded her head.

"Much as I was. I was a sideshow act so the gypsies might survive. The boy you saved merely had a scar across his face. The imperfections that he has are nothing compared to what I suffer with. I see it in the mirror every time I look at my reflection. I frighten people once I remove the one thing that has protected me my entire life – my mask."

Erik stepped in front of Angelina, watching the emotions run across her face. She had shown everything – anger, pity, happiness, and sadness. Now was the moment of truth. He would damn himself to Hell if Angelina turned away once he revealed himself to her. Flames would consume his soul much more than when Christine shunned him. He had grown closer to Angelina than he ever did with Christine. The wound he would suffer would most likely kill him.

"I am the Phantom of the Opera."

"Erik…"

"I need to show you who I really am."

"I know who you really are."

Tilting his head down, he put his fingers under the edge of his mask. With one swift move, he had removed his mask and wig. Taking a deep breath, Erik slowly let his head rise and his eyes meet Angelina's.

There was no pity in her eyes – no remorse. His breath caught as Angelina took a step forward. Tears were filling his eyes, making her face that much harder to see.

He stood, his body frozen like a statue as her fingertips gently brushed over the marred skin. It was soft, unlike anything she had ever felt. She could hear Erik's breath catch as she continued her exploration. His eyes were still beautiful even with the deformity. They continued to be iridescent and drew her in as never before. His hair was not the jet black she had come to know. It seemed to be a copper color even in the candlelight. A large spot continued from his face onto the top of his head. She continued her trace upward.

"Angelina…"

"Shhh..."

His eyes closed as her feather-like touches sent him soaring into the heavens. He had never imagined it would be like this. Erik imagined Angelina screaming and fleeing from the lair. He could feel her fingers combing through his still thinning hair. Her other hand had found its way to his unmarred cheek. Tears spilled down his cheeks and she gently brushed them away.

"You are not the Devil's Child."

He could not look at her – the shame he felt too much to bear.

"Erik, look at me."

Slowly opening his eyes, Erik peered into Angelina's eyes. They seemed to smile to him.

"This does not change how I feel about you."

"How can you not run?"

"You have seen my scars…"

She led his hand to her side and slowly worked it up along the scar that could not be felt through the fabric. Erik closed his eyes and saw the scar that he had traced with his hand days earlier.

"I felt your touch. Through the darkness, I could feel it. I would know it anywhere."

His eyes opened and looked at the innocence upon her face.

"I lied to you when I said that the scars I bore were from a surgeon's hand. The one right above my heart is from my surgery as a child."

"Angelina, you do not have to tell me."

"It is only fair. You told me your tale. I will tell you mine." She kept his hand pressed to her side as her hand was kept upon the cheek he wanted to hide from her view. "I was attacked, a few years ago. Alexander and I had traveled away from home for the first time. I wandered through the streets late at night. He had told me, more than once, to not wander far. I disobeyed. Several street urchins attacked me in an alleyway and took everything that I possessed, almost including my life. Alexander came to the hospital the next morning, finding me at death's door."

Erik watched as tears came to her eyes. He grasped her hand at her waist. Joining their fingers together, Angelina found the courage to continue the story.

"My mother never found out of the incident. My father was furious but soon helped me through the emotions that I had held within. I had thought I would never find the strength to go outside of my house again. But I was determined that I would live my dream and dance in Paris as my mother had." She smiled. "Who was to know that I would find an angel waiting for me."

"I am no angel, Angelina. I am far from it."

"You are my guardian angel. No one can take that away from me – not even your doubts and fears." Caressing his cheek, she smiled at him. "You cannot push me away any longer. You have shown me a part of you that you have shown no one else. I do not want you to hide from me in the shadows any longer."

"Angelina…"

"I am not going to run and hide if that is what you hope I will do. I am standing right here before you – not running and screaming. I do not intend to."

Taking the mask from his hand, she placed it on the organ bench. Angelina wanted his full attention.

"Look at me, Erik."

His eyes could not leave hers. They brought him light and security. They gave him hope and stability. Her eyes were the shelter that shielded him from the pain that others had given him. She had not shunned him as he thought. He felt warmth within his soul for the first time.

"You are my teacher – my angel. Nothing will take that away from me. Not your looks or your actions. I will try to understand why you…" Angelina could not find the courage to say that Erik had murdered two men. "…took the actions you did. I will find a way. But I will not turn away from you or desert you. Of this I assure you."

Erik choked up at Angelina's kind words. It hit his heart harder than he had anticipated. Gently lifting her up, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You should rest. You are still weak."

"I am stronger now that you have entrusted me with this secret."

He smiled and gently kissed her forehead. "You have made me stronger by accepting who I am." Pausing, he looked at the beauty that was in his arms. "Come, I will sing you to sleep."

She smiled wider than she would have liked. "I would like that very much."

Erik carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom – his sanctuary. Many secrets had been told and scars revealed. But he had yet to tell her the biggest one of all – how he nearly ruined her parents' life. Two burning bridges he had crossed and Angelina did not leave his side. But he feared her rejection of him once he revealed to her how he had wanted nothing more than to make Christine his bride.

Time could only help heal the wounds that were about to be opened. Erik trusted whatever force that was helping him love. He trusted the spirit that lingered there to guide him into the arms of the woman that endured everything with him. With the light battling the dark, Erik knew that fate would bring him to where he was supposed to be…and into the arms of the woman that he loved.


	46. Only God Knows Why

**A/N:** _Thank you all for your kind comments and reviews. Without you none of this would be possible. Please continue to spread the word. Although this is ending soon, there is still much to be told._

_As always, Phoenix and I would love to hear what you patrons think. It is what fuels us to write this. Once again, the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 44 – Only God Knows Why**

The gentle sound of rain echoed throughout the opera house. Lightning streaked the sky and lit up every window. Thunder crashed all around and made most of the younger dancers jump in fear.

Meg watched each dancer perform without any mistakes. Rene sung, off in the wings of the stage. He guided them along their path. The opera was moving swiftly and without any problems. Meg had given Angelina the day off to spend it shopping and doing whatever she wished.

"Again…"

The dancers obeyed and began once again as Monsieur Laurent began the piece. Rene began circling the stage, letting his voice bounce off of the walls. The rain seemed to be an instrument itself. The pangs on the roof seemed to join in the melody of the song. It was soothing and seemed to bring most of the opera house into a different mind set.

Meg heard the doors behind her shut closed. The shuffling of feet across the red carpet of the main hall distracted her for the briefest of seconds. She continued to watch the dancers as a young man stood behind her. He cleared his throat, finally causing Meg to turn to him.

"I have a message, Madam."

"From who?"

"The Vicomtess de Chagny." He paused, holding out the bundle. There were a few stains on it from where the rain drops had hit it. "It is of the utmost urgency."

Meg's hand shook as she took the bundle from the boy's hand. Reaching into the purse on her side, she handed the boy a coin and he scurried off.

The seal was unbroken but was unlike any other seal she had seen before. It seemed to be put on with haste and without thought. It was a half seal – barely recognizable. Her fingers refused to open it.

The song began to calm the nerves that wanted to explode inside of her. Her fingers began to play with the seal.

_It is of the utmost urgency…_

Breaking the seal, her fingers tore open the outer most shell of the bundle. Inside lay two letters – each bearing the same seal that she had broken. Lifting the letters out, the covering floated to the floor.

Stains were marked upon both letters. Meg knew that the rain had not done the damage.

_Tears…_

Turning each letter over, Meg noticed two names: My Dear Friend Meg and My Beautiful Angelina. Her hands trembled once again. Placing the letter for Angelina on a chair, she looked at the frenzied handwriting of her name. Several stains were upon the frail looking parchment.

The song seemed to continue on for an eternity as her fingers found the strength to open the folded letter. Tears came to her eyes before she could read a word of it. The handwriting was frantic and she could feel the pain behind them. Glancing toward the bottom, she noticed the name. The letters had been given to the messenger by Christine but the letters were signed by Raoul.

_My Dearest Meg,_

_I have not the words to begin this letter. Christine has locked herself in our room. She has not left for days. The news that I am about to share with you has brought to our lives a hole which will not be filled even in time._

_Alexander has passed on. Our son, our dear Alexander, has met Death._

Meg gasped. _It cannot be true!_ Her gasp seemed to echo and it reached Rene's ears. Monsieur Laurent continued on with the never ending melody as Rene began toward the woman whose tears stained the carpet.

_I have walked in the rain for days. I have been trying to find the words to tell my Angel of Light. Angelina will suffer far more than I can bear. My beautiful Christine has not said a single word to me since we heard of the news._

_Meg, I beg of you to be there with Angelina when she reads my letter. I wish to be there with her – to hold her and assure her everything will be alright. But in Christine's current state, the doctors are worried for her health. Please assure her that I will be with her when I can. She must write me and tell me everything she feels – even if it is anger. I want her to feel sorrow and pain. She cannot bottle it up inside as she does._

Rene finally reached Meg before she fell to the floor. Helping her into one of the chairs, Rene knelt in front of her as she finished the letter.

_She will scream – of this I know. Alexander and she were more than brother and sister – they were best friends. Her heart will be torn and I will not be there to mend it. Please, Meg, find someone to be with her while she cries. I long to be with her. But until I am, keep her safe from not only the world but from herself._

_Thank you, Meg. Thank you for all that you will do._

_With much love and sorrow,_

_Raoul_

Tears fell down Meg's already stained cheeks. Her eyes would not look at Rene continuing to kneel in front of her. Her heart was slowly breaking. The boy she had helped to raise was gone from the world that loved him.

"Meg, what is it?"

There were no words she could find. Her throat felt as though it had swollen shut. The letter dropped from her hand and seemed to float on forever. Rene gently picked it up and began to read. His eyes grew wide as Meg stared off into space.

"There is a note for Angelina?"

Meg merely nodded her head. Rene picked the unsealed letter from the arm of the seat next to her.

"Meg…look at me."

Meg's eyes finally met Rene's. His hand grasped hers. Her eyes burned from the continuous flow of tears. They felt swollen and she knew they were blood shot.

"We must tell Angelina."

Her head began reeling from the thought of telling Angelina of her brother's death. Without Raoul here, Meg knew that it would be the hardest thing for Angelina to go through.

"I cannot."

"Then let her father's words tell her. We need to be there to console her."

Her head nodded without restraint. Her father's words would break the news to Angelina. She would find out the truth of the death of her brother.

_God help me and guide me. Let me be there for Angelina like you have been there for me during so many sleepless nights. Let me be there for her like Christine was when I lost my child. God, grant me the strength…_

Meg rose on legs that did not want to support her weight. Rene stood in front of her, watching to see if he would need to help her walk.

"Where is she?"

"I saw her walk through the back stage area. She should be headed to her room."

"Come, we need to tell her everything."

Holding out his arm, Meg grasped it – afraid she would fall if she did not. Rene silently led her through the opera house. The dancers ignored their absence and continued their routine. The song that Monsieur Laurent conducted continued to play – changing into a melancholy melody.

* * *

Angelina smiled as she pulled a beautiful navy dress from a garment bag. She twirled in front of the mirror, holding it up to her petite frame. There was hope in her heart that Erik was watching. It warmed her and chilled her at the same time to know that her teacher could be standing behind the mirror watching her without her even knowing.

A soft knock on her door had Angelina turn with the dress still pressed against her.

"Angelina?"

She smiled. "Come in, Rene."

The door slowly opened and Rene stood in the doorway with Meg behind him. Her look quickly turned from happiness to bewilderment.

"What happened?"

Meg stepped out of the shadows. The letter seemed like a dead weight in her hand.

"Oh, Angelina…"

"Madam Giry, what is going on!"

Angelina watched as Meg held the letter in front of her. Hesitating, she grasped it but Meg did not let go.

"We are here for you."

"You are scaring me."

Touching Meg's shoulder, Rene gestured to the door. "We should give her a few moments."

Angelina watched as Rene and Meg walked out of her room and quietly shut the door. Her legs were shaking and were growing numb. Sitting down, Angelina noticed her parents' seal on the back of the letter.

Opening the note, she peered inside. Tears stained the parchment as splatters of ink were along the sides of the letter. She noticed the writing – her father's. Her fingers danced over the letter, letting it linger as if somehow she was clinging to whatever happiness she had left.

_My Beautiful Daughter,_

_Angelina, I wish I was there with you in Paris at this moment. But your mother's health has forbid me to ride to Paris as fast as my horse would take me. There is something I must tell you, my dear Angelina. Something I fear will hurt you more than anything else…_

Angelina did not want to read and farther. It scared her to no end at what her father needed to tell her. Her heart raced at the thought of what it could be. Nothing prepared her for what she read next.

_Alexander went to work on Sunday morning. It was unusual for him but his partner wanted a head start on Monday morning's work. It was dark before Alexander could come home. As you know, his firm is on the other side of town. During the night, no one should walk the streets – whether it be a man, woman, or child._

_He became surrounded by three men…_

Her hand instinctively went to her lips. _No, no this cannot be happening…_

_It was almost three in the morning when we received a knock on our door. A friend of ours, Monsieur Garland, was a doctor at the hospital during the night shift. He quickly told us of Alexander's condition. We immediately arrived at the hospital…_

_My dearest, there were several words that Alexander said to me before the doctors said there was nothing else that they could do…_

'_Tell Angelina that I love her…'_

Tears streamed down her cheeks – hot and burned her flesh. _No! He is not dead…he is not dead!_

_He died just before the sun rose. The doctors did everything they could. No money in the world would have helped him. I would have sold my soul to the devil if I could have saved him._

_I want to hold you in my arms and tell you everything will be alright. I wish I was there with you so that you may cry upon my shoulder. Dearest Angelina, Alexander was the light in all of our lives…but now he looks down upon you as an angel. Let him lead you to the future you deserve so much. He loved you as a sister and as a friend. He still loves you._

_Please, Angelina, do not bottle up your emotions as I know you will. Release them in any manner you wish to as long as it is not going to harm you in anyway. Write me, yell at me, do what you must. Do not hold it inside of you._

_The funeral is several days from when you will receive this letter. We will understand if you cannot be in attendance. Alexander will understand. The pain you are feeling is great but know that there are people around you that will help you understand it and get you through it._

_My dear, I love you. I love Alexander. I love your mother. I would have done anything to save him. I will do anything to save you. Please forgive me for his terrible fate. May God forgive me for failing the both of you._

_My love always,_

_Your father_

The words stung her in places unimaginable by anyone. Her heart collapsed and darkness swept over her.

"No!" Angelina screamed as she sobbed. "No!"

The door burst open and Rene quickly ran through the doorway. Before he could put his arms around her, Angelina stood and stumbled away from him.

"Do not touch me!"

The letter fell from her hand and slid near the mirror. All she saw was darkness and blood. Her hands flew up as Rene tried to reach for her.

"Angelina…"

"He is not dead!"

"Please, listen…"

"He is not dead!"

Meg stood in the doorway and watched as Angelina broke like a shattering vase upon the floor. The flower was slowly wilting away.

"Do not pull away, Angelina."

"He is not dead, Rene. He will walk through that doorway…"

Rene took a step toward her, not wanting to scare her. "He is not coming back." Trying to reach out for her again, she screamed as tears took over her face.

"I want Alexander!"

Angelina fell to her knees – the floor under her not giving. Her knees screamed in protest to the pain but she ignored it. The pain was greater within her heart that anything she could inflict.

Arms reached around her and she did not move. Angelina was numb. Nothing could jar her from the feelings that stirred within.

Rene began to rock her back and forth in his arms. Trying to console her, her tears would not end. His shoulder became soaked with the hot tears that seared his skin.

"He is watching over you as we speak. Your brother will never leave you."

He felt her sob and her body shake. There would be no sleep for the weary tonight. Afraid of nightmares and dreams, Angelina would stay awake so that the pain would continue to find its way to her soul. There was only one man that could take the pain away. As much as Rene wanted to help her, they were friends and now the closest thing she had to a brother but did not possess what was needed to help.

Erik would guide her and help her through the pain. Rene would continue to be her rock and be by her side. But he knew that Erik was the only one to help Angelina heal her heart.


	47. To the Heart of the Matter

**A/N:** _You will have to forgive me. I write this note on the eve of my brother's funeral. I want to thank you all for your kind comments. Phoenix consoled me while I told my story. The loss of Alexander will be carried heavy on my heart._

_This next chapter was hard to write for Phoenix as well. Much emotion was poured into this chapter. Please read and review. She would love to hear how well she handled this chapter. I would also like to mention that she has also written a story called 'The Lonely Road We Have Taken' on FictionPress **dot** com. If you wish to have the link, include it in your review. She would love to have a few readers on that story. No one has reviewed and her muses are missing them._

_On a brighter note…Soon Phoenix will also begin to post her new Phantomstory. As soon as Light is finished, a new Erik will emerge. Please continue to read her work. She would appreciate it._

_Once again, there is a song within this chapter that does not belong to Erik or Phoenix. We would like to thank Monsieur Josh Groban. Without him, the song would not be possible. In light of all that has happened, the stage continues to be yours._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 45 – To the Heart of the Matter**

Erik pondered climbing the winding staircase. He did not care if anyone in the opera house saw him. Scream after scream he had listened to echoed in his lair. Angelina was in pain and he did not know why. His heart broke as the first shrill scream pierced his soul.

His legs were growing tired and begged him to take a rest. But he would not relent. His pace was growing more furious with each passing minute.

_Damn my face!_

It was his face that denied him to seek out Angelina and find out what was wrong. It was his damn face that would condemn him to wait in solitude as others consoled his angel.

Another scream erupted throughout the lair. His scream joined hers. Hers was in pain – his in frustration.

Finally finding the courage, he began toward the stairs but stopped once he heard the sound of the mirror shutting closed. Seconds turned into minutes as he patiently waited for whoever was coming down the stone staircase.

Sobs replaced the screams he heard earlier. The sound of footsteps stopped abruptly. Erik leapt and bounded up the remaining stairs to see Angelina sitting on a step shrouded in darkness. The torches lit every one except the one she sat upon.

"Angelina…"

She looked up at him, her cheeks pale and stained by tears. Her hair hung about her shoulders with no life. She shivered – cold and tired.

"Let me take you…"

Angelina quickly pulled away from him, causing Erik to jump. "Do not touch me."

A crumpled note was in her left hand. Erik noticed the seal right away.

_The de Chagny seal…_

"Is everything alright at home?"

Angelina put the note farther from view. The news was still to raw to tell anyone. Her heart was slowly beginning to accept what the note said.

"Angelina, tell me what has happened."

"He is dead." The note ripped in her hand. Her fingers tore it apart. "He is dead!"

Erik cringed as her voice made the water ripple. She shook – not from the cold but from anger.

"Who?"

"The man I have loved since birth…my best friend…my confidant…my brother…"

Erik's eyes widened as realization hit.

"…Alexander is dead…" Angelina began to rock back and forth. The cold air from the lair did not chill her as much as hearing her say that her brother died out loud. "…he is dead."

Taking a chance, Erik sat beside her in the darkness that very rarely called to anyone else but him. Today, it denied him entry and granted the soul that deserved to be basked in light.

"Tell me it is not true, Erik."

"I cannot."

"Tell me it is not true!"

Angelina's fists met rock. She continued to pound until Erik quickly stopped her. Turning her toward him, her fists began their assault on his chest. He let her wrists go and let her beat him.

"Make him come back!" Tears joined with her pounding. "Bring him back!"

"I cannot…"

"Please…." Her hands grew tired and she could see the blood stains on Erik's shirt. Angelina's hands slid down his chest. "…please…"

Erik put his arms around her and listened to her cry. He had never known family. By the time he was old enough to remember, his mother had already given him to the carnival. There was no way of knowing whether he had any brothers or sisters. The emotions Angelina were feeling were foreign to him. There was no way he could console her to the point of making her feel no more anguish.

Angelina clung to him as a child would their mother if they were in pain. Her mother and father were clinging to each other – of this she knew. Her mother's melancholy state was taking a toll not only on her mother but on her father as well. She longed to have her father by her side but there was no way he could come.

"Where are your parents?"

"My mother is too sick to leave home. My father could not leave her side."

Erik closed his eyes and said a silent prayer for Christine. In his heart he still loved her but now in a different way than years prior. He still cared for her. Erik would have done anything to make sure no pain ever entered her heart. He failed both mother and daughter.

"I love him, Erik. He was my best friend."

"You were close?"

"My father always said we were closer than any other brother and sister he had ever seen. We did everything together."

"Then remember those times…" Taking a single finger, he lifted Angelina's chin to have her eyes meet his. "…he would not want you to mourn him as you are."

"You cannot begin to imagine…" She stopped. Erik had been through his own torment. He did not need to suffer the loss of a loved one. "…I am sorry. I do not want my words to hurt you."

"I know you do not mean them. You are angry and in pain. I will not take them into my heart as I have done many of your other words."

He watched as a smile crept onto her face. Erik smiled and kissed her forehead. The pain would lessen over time. He would see to it. Until then, Angelina's heart would be open and bleeding. Time would heal all that was lost. She would, in time, understand that Alexander was always with her as he was.

"He just…Erik, he was the first person I ever said 'I love you' to. I mean that…our bond was a brother and sister bond that exceeded the expectations of everyone. We were the children of Christine and Raoul de Chagny. We were expected to behave as upper class children – respect for others and to keep a hold of the reputation of the family."

Erik watched as Angelina hung her head. She moved against the cold stone wall, hoping that the frigid temperature would calm her nerves.

"My father thought that Alexander would be the problem child. I turned out to be the demon child." She laughed. "Alexander did all he could to keep me out of trouble. There was an instance, where I stood near a pond. Jonathan stood in front of me, looking at the fish swimming about. I shoved Jonathan into the pond…"

Erik wanted to smile at the thought of the boy drowning in the pond. It would have saved him a lot of trouble of trying to win the affections of Angelina.

"…I did not know the water was freezing. Jonathan's father was of noble blood and did not like me in the least. Once he found out about Jonathan, he quickly blamed me. Alexander took the blame." Smiling, Angelina looked at Erik. "It was the first time I ever said 'I love you'. He saved me from a horrible punishment. It is a debt that I can never repay…"

Her hands quickly covered her face. Tears flowed once again. Erik could take no more. Standing, he looked down upon her.

"Come…"

Angelina looked into her angel's eyes. They showed no emotion but his hand, outstretched, showed that he cared.

"You need sleep. Dreams need to take you far away from everything."

"Erik, I will not be able to sleep."

"You will. This I promise you."

She grasped his hand as he pulled her to her feet. Sweeping her off of her feet, Erik gathered her tired frame in his arms and began down the stairs. The flames that lit the way seemed to flicker their sorrowful apologies for the loss of Alexander.

Her head was mocking her. It pounded as she did on Erik's chest. Resting her head on his chest, the constant stepping was making it grow.

"Erik…"

"I will get you something for your headache." He knew her head was throbbing. Her head rested against his chest and he watched her grimace in pain with every step he took. It was only a few steps farther and he could lay her in bed and dim the light that hurt her more than she needed.

Moving toward the bedroom, he climbed the last four stairs and placed her onto the satin sheets. She curled up into a ball and tried to hide from everything around her. Erik quickly dimmed the light, to help ease her suffering.

"I will be back in a moment's time."

She could hear Erik move from the room. Uncovering herself, Angelina looked around the room. Every time she had been in the room, she was unconscious and did not have a chance to see anything.

Nothing decorated the walls and only a dresser and closet occupied the room other than the bed. It was the top of his dresser that peaked her interest.

Her eyes searched the darkness and tried to see what was on it: several bottles, sheet music, quills, ink, and a small velvet box. Before Angelina could rise, Erik returned with a glass of water as he something mixed in it.

Erik sat beside Angelina and helped her sit up. Holding out the glass, he watched her shake her head. "Drink."

"What is in that?"

"Something to help your headache. Drink it all."

"I am not drinking that until I know what is in there."

Taking her hand, Erik put the glass into it. "You do not trust me yet?"

"I trust you, Erik, with my life."

"Then drink. I assure you, in several minutes time, your headache will ease."

He watched her drink until all of the water was gone. Taking back the glass, Erik set it down. Angelina lay back down and pulled the blankets over her head.

"You will suffocate that way."

"Maybe my heartache will go away."

Taking the sheet, he pulled it down to her shoulders. "Hiding in the darkness will not help you."

"Does it help you?"

Erik's eyes went wide at the question. Angelina grimaced after hearing herself say it.

"Erik, I am sorry…I did not…"

"No…it does not help."

Silence seemed to hang between them, wanting to suffocate them. Before Erik could stand, Angelina's fingers slowly began to caress the back of his hand.

"Sing to me."

"You need to sleep."

"Then sing me to sleep, as you did the boy we saved."

"You saved him, Angelina."

"You gave him a home and a life. I did nothing."

Sighing, Erik put both of her hands over her stomach. He left one hand to rest over both. "And what would you have me sing?"

"You are the great composer. You choose."

Searching his memory, he nodded. The notes he needed were in his mind. He did not need the organ to help him sing this one.

"Remember…I will still be here…as long as you hold me…in your memory."

His fingers mimicked what Angelina's did to his hand only moments before.

"Remember…when your dreams have ended…time can be transcended…just remember me…"

It was as if a cloud was lifted. Her head began to feel lighter. The storm was finally passing. Angelina's eyes slowly began to droop.

"I am the one star that keeps burning…so brightly…it is the last light…to fade into the rising sun."

Erik watched his angel drift into the dreams she needed to have. Reality did not need to hold her any longer.

"I'm with you…whenever you tell my story…for I am all I've done."

His hand gently moved from her hands to her face. He slowly began to caress the tear stained cheeks as Angelina fell deeper into sleep.

"Remember…I will still be here…as long as you hold me in your memory…Remember me."

Tears fell without reservation. Erik brushed them away without pretense. There would be more tears shed and his hand would brush every one of them away.

"I am the one voice in the cold wind that whispers…and if you'll listen you'll hear me call across the sky."

Her chest rose and fell. With each breath, a tear was shed.

"As long as I can still reach out…and touch you…then I will never die."

Angelina's hand found Erik's and entwined her fingers with his. He took a deep breath and continued on with his song.

"Remember…I'll never leave you…if you will only…remember me..." Taking a brief pause, Erik knew that Angelina was so far into her dreams that he could reach her no longer. "…remember me."

He rose from the bed and looked at his fallen angel. There was much still to be done. If he knew Angelina as he did, the anger of the death of her brother was far from over. There was much more that needed to be said and done. He hoped that it would not take an event of catastrophic proportions to be rid of her melancholy. Erik knew that in order to make herself feel better, Angelina would hurt herself to feel as though she were feeling the pain they felt. Erik would not let that happen. This time, he would be there for her unlike her fall from grace several months prior.

Kissing her forehead, he began his travel from the lair. Erik knew that Angelina would need her things. She would not want to return to her room. Gathering the strength he needed, Erik began his ascent up the staircase. Happiness was what Angelina needed. He would expose himself to get it for her.

* * *

Angelina's room had grown dark. A chair had been toppled over and parchment littered the floor. 

Erik looked at the mess and knew that Angelina had caused it. Her tirade had been great and no one had bothered to clean up the mess.

_Insolent fools…_

Bending down, he began to pick up the parchment but quickly stopped. There was one sheet that was not blank like many of the others. Gathering the other pieces, he set them on the table.

Grabbing the chair, Erik sat down at the table and lit the reading lamp.

_You should not read this…it is not your property…_

His prying eyes did not stop even at the begging of his mind. He quickly began to read over the words…

_Alexander,_

_I hope that you are well and that this reaches you in due speed. I have been meaning to talk to you of an urgent matter. I have already told father. He understood and supported me in my decision as I hope you will do._

_I do not love Jonathan._

_I have not loved him for some time. If you have been wondering why I have not accepted his proposal, this is part of the reason._

_The other reason is: I have fallen in love. Oh, Alexander, if you could only know how happy I am. You might possibly hear it in my words. But I smile every time I am around him. I could soar to the heavens and no one would ever find me._

_He has made me the happiest girl on Earth. Of course I have not told him that I love him. How can I? It would be improper. Mother and father would never hear of it. But father knows how I feel._

_Who is he, you ask? I am smiling because I know once I utter his name, my fate will be sealed. Alexander, you must swear to me you will tell no one will know of this. Father knows I am in love but he does not know with whom. Only you and I will ever know. Swear it?_

_He has been a part of my life for months now. He has seen me through bad times and worse times. He has been my teacher, my guardian, my angel…_

_Alexander, his name is Erik. I could sing his voice from the rooftops and it would never be enough. I love him more than words could express._

_Write to me, come to Paris. I must see you._

_With all my love,_

_Angelina_

Erik's breath caught and his heart nearly stopped.

_She loves me…_

He stood – knocking over the chair. Erik had never been flustered before. It was as if his entire world was spinning. Looking at the letter once again, Erik assured himself that he had not imagined what he read.

_It was a private letter – one that was not to be read by your eyes._

It did not matter to Erik. He would never reveal to Angelina that he had read her letter. Placing it with the rest of the parchment, Erik quickly gathered several dresses and some of her other belongings and placed them into a satchel. Closing it, he glanced one more time at the letter.

_She loves me!_

The reflection he saw bore the hint of a smile. Pressing his hand to the mirror, his smile grew just thinking of what the letter contained. His heart could have wept with happiness.

_It is not Rene. She loves me!_

Erik vowed to himself that things would change: subtly but with haste. He could not come out and confess to Angelina his feelings. Erik needed to show her. By taking care of her, it was a step closer to her. He would guide her and protect her. His angel would shine and he would be the reason.

Sliding open the mirror, the hallway seemed to glow brighter. Erik stepped through, closing it behind him. Starting down the hallway, Erik walked with purpose. He loved Angelina. Angelina loved him. He had a reason to live – a reason to be who he always wanted to be. Erik smiled.

_I am a Man. I am a Man in love and who is going to be loved in return._


	48. The Song That Will Never Be Sung

**A/N:** _Hey guys! Thank you so much for supporting me with the recent chapters. I'm going to try my best and post the address for my Lonely story. Bare with me as I try to do this: http **colon backslash backslash **www **dot** fictionpress **dot **com **backslash** read **dot **php?storyid **equal sign **1919864_

_Now that I've said my peace, here is the man of the hour.

* * *

_

_I do not have much to say and I know that you do not mind. But my fair Angelina is still in the darkness. I hope that this chapter will shed some light on all that has happened. I would like to thank all of you who are reading this story. In one of the future chapters, Phoenix will be posting the name of her new Phantom story. I, Light Erik – as I like to call myself, will be taken over by a new Erik. Hopefully you will welcome him with open arms as you have done with me._

_Please enjoy this chapter. As always, read and review. And for the sake of copyright laws, the song within this chapter does not belong to me, Phoenix, or Angelina. We would like to thank the movie Moulin Rouge – considering it is one of Phoenix's favorites, for the song. We found it appropriate and plays quite well with the chapter._

_The stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 46 – The Song That Will Never Be Sung**

Days seemed to pass like years. Time became slow and haunting. It did not want to give Angelina time to heal. It wanted to drag the tragedy through her mind for all eternity.

Rene watched as Angelina pirouetted across the stage. Music echoed in his ears without the beautiful voice to accompany it. Meg stepped along side of him and watched with her heart breaking.

"She still will not sing?"

Rene solemnly shook his head. "It has been almost a week. She has not said a word to anyone."

"Raoul has been afraid of this happening."

"She has gone into her own world. Meg, there is no one to bring her out of it."

Meg knew that Raoul was still tending to Christine. Christine had slipped into a melancholy so serious that nothing would console her. The doctors were afraid of her heath failing even more than it already was. Raoul could not be with her daughter as much as he wanted to be. There had been several correspondences after the one with the tragic news. Raoul wanted Angelina kept safe and happy. Meg was failing in her task.

"Monsieur DuBois…"

Turning, Rene watched as a young dancer stepped up to him with a letter in her hand. She lowered her head and held out the letter – trembling with fear.

"…I was told to give you this."

Rene did not need to open it to see who it was from. His master had changed his seal to conceal who was writing him letters. The normal blood red skull seal was replaced with an 'E' in white. The young girl scurried away, leaving Rene and Meg alone.

"What is it?"

"Will you excuse me?" Rene bowed and stepped off to the side. Breaking the seal, he began to read…

_Rene_

_You will reserve the stage for Angelina and me tonight. I know what has transpired over this past week. Her melancholy will consume her until someone brings her soul back to the surface. Assure me that you will do this for me._

_Erik_

Stuffing the letter in his pocket, he approached Meg once again. Meg noticed Rene's look right away.

"Rene, what is it?"

"I need to have the stage tonight."

"Monsieur Laurent wanted to use it. His orchestra needed to practice."

"Make it another night."

Meg looked at Rene, confused. "What is with the sudden need of the stage?"

"Please, Meg, tell me that I may use the stage." Stepping closer to her, he leaned near her ear. "It is a surprise for Angelina. I hope to help her through this fear she has within to let go of her sorrow. I have something planned for her tonight and just received a letter that it can be done as planned."

She knew that Rene wanted nothing more than to help Angelina through the pain that consumed her. Nodding her head, Meg smiled. "I will tell Monsieur Laurent that he must practice tomorrow night."

Hugging Meg, Rene raced from the stage. "Thank you!"

* * *

"It is done?" 

Rene stood near the shore and watched Erik sit at his organ. He nodded his head as if his master could see him.

"Yes."

"There will be no one there?"

"No one." The music made its crescendo and caused him jump. Rene watched as Erik continued on. "How will you get Angelina to come?"

"My music will bring her to me."

"You are sure of that?"

"You doubt me?"

"No…" It was Angelina he doubted. She had been so detached from the world around her; she did not even speak to him. "I fear that your music will not bring Angelina to you. Everyone has tried, Erik. No one has reached her."

"I assure you, I will reach her."

Turning his head, Erik looked down at his protégé. How naïve Rene was. Rene still had much to learn about the world around him and much to learn about women as well. Ever since finding out that Angelina loved him, Erik had been bound and determined to make sure that her heart began to heal as it should. The loss of Alexander was great but it would only be a matter of time before his angel used her wings to soar once again.

"Erik, Angelina told me that you sang to her when she came to you…"

Erik stopped playing the organ that somehow now became second to Angelina. Music always filled his life and his mind. Now he was finding something else becoming more important than his music: his angel.

"…she felt secure and safe. But it did not help her."

"It will help her. Music is a part of her life. Once she realizes the healing power it possesses, she will return to what she was."

"Music is not as much a part of her as it is with you. Music heals you – helps you through everything. Her brother was her life."

Sighing, Erik rose, his black robe hiding his figure. "You are right."

Rene watched as Erik began down the stairs toward him. He always feared what his master would to do him if he ever disappointed him. There had been one instance, when Erik first discovered him. Erik had become so angry; the walls shook in his dressing room. After that moment, Rene had vowed to himself never to disappoint the man who gave him a new life.

"I am not angry, Rene. You can stop trembling." Walking toward him, Erik's eyes looked toward the heavens. "I just wish her happy once again."

"She will be."

_Alexander, his name is Erik. I could sing his voice from the rooftops and it would never be enough. I love him more than words could express._

Erik closed his eyes as he pictured the letter in his mind. Angelina's handwriting had been careful and full of feeling. The words scribed on the paper were true. She loved him and he could not bring her back to the light that she had lived in for so long.

"Do you wish for anything else tonight?"

"No…" Erik looked at his protégé and smiled. "…nothing else."

Bowing, Rene turned toward the staircase. He watched the flames flicker and dance along the walls.

"Erik…"

"Yes?"

"She loves you. She does not want to disappoint you. I do not want her to hurt any longer. But I think, once she sees you, things might change."

Erik could not contain his smile any longer. "I know, Rene. I know. And I do hope things change. My angel needs to be back in the light that she belongs in. She does not need to travel through the darkness that I do."

Rene laughed to himself. "You no longer live in the darkness." Turning to Erik, he smiled. "She has brought you into the light and you did not even know it."

He watched as Rene began up the stairs. The light danced upon his hunched frame. Erik knew of the feelings that Rene had for Angelina. But now the feelings had turned into a brother/sister bond. Rene was disappointed that he could help her as much as he could. Erik was glad Angelina could have such a close friend. He knew that if she could not turn to him, Rene would be the one she would confide in.

The lair seemed to grow brighter as Erik moved up the stairs to his organ. He needed to bring his angel back into the light. There was a need so great inside that Erik wanted to go to her room and bring Angelina to the stage himself.

_No…I must do it this way…_

Gathering his sheet music, he moved to his bedroom to get ready.

_Tonight is the night that my angel will return to me…

* * *

_

The music seemed to call to her – waking her from a nightmare. All she saw was blood and could only hear Alexander scream. She continued to search for him and could not find him. That is all she dreamed about. Alexander consumed her mind – every second, every minute, of every day. Her heart felt as though it was tearing in two.

Angelina stepped onto the stage and watched as Erik stood on the stage, looking out at the empty seats. She never knew how he did it. The music seemed to fill the air without ever truly being played. No one else ever heard it – only her.

"I have heard a rumor…"

Angelina stopped – letting his voice fill her. It was the only thing that made her feel at ease.

"…that the lead in the opera will not sing." Erik turned to her, his eyes filled with sorrow. "And she will not speak."

She had not spoken in days. Not wanting to keep saying what happened over and over, she kept to herself – not uttering a word.

"An angel should speak." He watched her for signs of letting herself let go of the grief. "Where is that angel?"

Angelina stood silent. Erik wanted her to speak but she still was not ready. If she had her way, she would be alone in her room. His music called to her as he knew it would.

"If you will not speak, then I will sing…"

She was about to speak, to stop him, until the music abruptly changed. It became soft – haunting. She closed her eyes and listened.

"Never knew I could feel like this…like I've never seen the sky before…want to vanish inside your kiss…every day I love you more and more…"

Erik circled her, his hands lingering just around her body. He could feel her warmth – her longing to let everything go. The song was filled with things about love. Without proclaiming it to her, he sang it. She would not know that this was how he felt but he knew. He knew that every word he sang – he meant.

"Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings…come back to me, and forgive everything…seasons may change, winter to spring…but I love you till the end of time…"

A single tear ran down her cheek. She knew the song. The song had been rehearsed several times. Erik had found it in the depths of the opera house. He wanted to make sure it was a song needed for his newest opera. With her voice and his, he knew it would be something that would be toward the end. The song was a beautiful piece and with their voices, it had remained in her heart.

"Come what may…come what may…I will love you until my dying day…"

He stood behind her, his hands on her hips. Her hair was down and about her shoulders. She smelt of fresh lavender. He longed to run his fingers through her silky hair. Erik denied himself to give Angelina the time she needed.

Angelina hesitated, not wanting to move into her verse. How she loved Erik. But the loss of Alexander seemed to overtake every other emotion she felt. Even Erik's hands on her body seemed distant.

Leaning near her ear, Erik felt her hair on his unmarred cheek. It sent his imagination soaring. "Sing, Angelina…no one else will hear you."

She quickly shook her head. Tears began to fall more readily. Sorrow was consuming her and racked her.

"Sing. Alexander would not want you to be like this."

Angelina trembled in his arms as his words tried to sooth her. The music continued to grow until she could take it no more.

"Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place…suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace…suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste…it all revolves around you…"

Erik sighed. Her voice was shaking but there. It was filling with power. He brought her closer to him, listening to the voice that he had been without for days.

"And there's no mountain too high…no river too wide…sing out this song and I'll be there by your side…storm clouds may gather…and stars may collide…but I love you till the end of time…"

Her eyes opened and her breathing grew heavy. Leaning her head back, she rested against Erik's chest. Every emotion was being sung – every emotion felt.

"Come what may…come what may…I will love you until my dying day."

Their voices joined – a feeling so great that Angelina's tears dropped onto Erik's hand.

"Come what may…come what may…" Angelina put her hands on Erik's, wanting to feel closer. "…I will love you…"

He listened as Angelina's heart broke but finally seemed at peace. "Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place…"

"Come what may…come what may…I will love you until my dying day." Their voices joined once again, with feeling and purpose. It echoed throughout the opera house.

Angelina turned into Erik's embrace and cried. Her tears fell like hot rain upon his chest. Arms wrapped around his body, not wanting to let go.

"Why did He take him? Why!"

Erik could do nothing but hold her. "Everything happens for a reason."

How true that saying now rung. If he had never let Christine go, Angelina would not be in his arms right now. His heartache from that night took years to let go. He could not imagine the pain Angelina felt but knew it would not go away in a day's time.

"Make it go away. Please, Erik, make all the pain go away."

His took his hand and lifted her face from his chest. Looking into her tear filled eyes; Erik knew what he had to do.

The heavens cried as Erik's lips touched Angelina's. Her eyes closed, taking in the sensation of his touch and caress. His arms wrapped tighter around her, bringing her closer to him. Her hands reached for his face. She caressed his left cheek while the other found the hardness of his mask.

Before she could remove it, Erik's hand grasped hers and entwined their fingers together. His free hand reached for her neck and kept a hold of it – afraid she would break the kiss. His fingers danced, brushing over the necklace he had given her only a few weeks before. Neither wanted to lose the feeling – their needs too great.

_It is not a dream…_

Slowly pulling away, Erik opened his eyes and looked at the beautiful creature before him. He slowly traced a finger over her lips as he leaned near her ear.

"You will need to continue to deal with the pain. It will take time but you will come to grips with it. I am always here for you, my angel."

He began into the darkness, leaving Angelina stand there – eyes slowly opening. His mask was the last thing Angelina saw before he was completely swallowed by the shadows that he always hid in.

Angelina fell to her knees and wept. Her emotions were playing games with her heart. Tiny hands covered her face as tears fell to the wooden floor. The loss of Alexander was great – her heart barely able to contain what lay inside. But now, love filled her and took over.

_Alexander, forgive me. But love has sought out my sorrow and has taken over. I love Erik. I love him…guide me as you have always done. Guide my heart to where it belongs._


	49. The Embrace of the Phantom

**A/N:** _This is a short chapter but will fuel the story along. We are quickly coming to an end. Once again, we would like to thank you, the patrons, for reading and reviewing. We hope that you have enjoyed the story as much as we have enjoyed telling it. Please, watch for a new Phantom story in the very near future._

_Enjoy this chapter. Read and review as always. And once again, the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 47 – The Embrace of the Phantom**

"To the left, Arnaud!"

Meg watched as Arnaud nearly fell off of the ladder. The cross was hanging crooked on the back stage wall. None of the stage hands could get it right. Arnaud was making sure that the plans she had were made perfect.

"I am moving it to the left!"

"Now you have gone too far…"

"Meg, please…we have been at this for almost an hour."

She heard laughter behind her. Turning, Meg watched as Angelina and Gabriella sat amongst the empty chairs, watching the chaos ensue on the stage.

"Are you not to be practicing, girls?"

"We have, several times."

"Practice again."

"Yes, Madam Giry." They both stood and quickly ran out of the room – laughing along the way.

"Meg, I believe that this is the closest you are going to get."

Arnaud climbed off of the ladder and looked at the cross looming in front of him. He watched as Meg stood long side of him.

"It is still crooked."

"No one will notice."

"I will."

"Then, my dear…" Arnaud kissed her on the forehead and drew her near to him. "…you must suffer. It cannot be any straighter than it already is."

"Then I must suffer." Meg sighed. "Arnaud…"

"Yes?"

"Have you noticed anything strange about Angelina?"

"No. Should I have?"

"She seems awfully happy." Taking his hand, Meg pulled Arnaud off to the side – giving them privacy. "She continues to go to the chapel every morning and to pray for Alexander."

"I do not see anything wrong with that."

"That is the least of it. She has been seen practicing all hours of the night. There are times she is up before the sun rises."

"She is a dedicated dancer."

Meg did not believe Arnaud was hearing a word she was saying. "There is someone else."

"Someone else?"

"I believe she is seeing someone."

"She is a young woman. I am sure many suitors will come knocking on her door. She has written to Jonathan – breaking off their engagement."

"She still has the ring."

Arnaud shook his head. "That does not matter. She is no longer in love with Jonathan. Leave her be, Meg. She is happier than I have ever seen her."

"No one has seen her suitor."

"They wish to remain private. Let it be…before you wind up in more trouble than it is worth."

Meg felt Arnaud's gentle touch and kiss before leaving her. She stood in the wings of the stage and watched as everyone around her continued about their business. Meg's heart filled with dread. She did not know who Angelina continued to see night after night. At first, she had come to the conclusion that it had been Rene. But several dancers had told her that Rene had been seen with a beautiful young woman in a local restaurant.

Thoughts seemed to consume her. Angelina was her responsibility. Meg hoped that Angelina was not using her new found freedom as a way to cause more trouble as she did in her youth. Christine had a hard time bringing Angelina into her status as a high standing member of society. Angelina had always shunned that part of her. All she wanted was to be a dancer – nothing more, nothing less.

Beginning toward the dormitories, Meg made a silent vow to herself…

_I will find out who Angelina has been sneaking around with. Whoever it is, they must reveal themselves. Angelina must be protected – at all costs.

* * *

_

Angelina stretched. Her legs ached and felt as though they would not support her if she stood.

"How long must one stretch? You have been practicing all day."

Slowly looking up, Angelina smiled as she looked into Erik's iridescent eyes. She stood; making sure her legs would not give way.

"My legs are tired. I was making sure that they would hold my weight."

Erik smiled as he watched Angelina continue to stretch. "I asked you here tonight for one specific reason."

"Which is…?"

"Do you know who wrote this new opera?"

"Someone with talent. I have read the music. It is spectacular."

"I am glad you like it."

Angelina looked at Erik quizzically. "You have seen it?"

"I have written it."

Erik laughed as Angelina's mouth gaped open. There were no words she could find to express how shocked she was.

"You are the composer?"

"Is it that hard to believe?"

"No, it is just that…" She looked at Erik, a smile still on his face. "…why would you?"

"I had a muse that would not relent."

Angelina blushed and turned from Erik. He smiled as she paced the stage.

"I want you to be perfect for this."

"I am not…Erik, I cannot do this."

"You were meant for the lead. I would have not have written it for you if you were not."

Her breath caught as she turned to him.

_He is still smiling._

"Erik…"

"You would deny me?"

* * *

Meg looked over sheet music, barely avoiding inanimate objects as she walked backstage. Her mind was reeling from what was still ahead. There were costumes to oversee, dances that still needed to be perfected, and placement of everyone on the stage. It was too much for her to handle. The secret investor wanted everything perfect – he would accept nothing less.

"You were meant for the lead. I would have not have written it for you if you were not."

Meg's heart stopped as the sheet music floated to the floor.

"Erik…"

"You would deny me?"

Quickly moving behind the curtain, she looked out onto the stage. Angelina stood in front of a tall man…

…_with a mask!_

Meg stifled a scream as she watched Angelina freely talk with the Phantom.

* * *

"I am not denying you."

"Then why are you resisting this role?"

"Because I am not this woman. I cannot be."

"You fear her." He began to circle her – watching her as he did. "You fear her as you did with Aminta."

"I do not fear her."

"Then what is it?"

"I fear disappointing you."

"You will never disappoint me."

They stood, looking at each other for several moments before Erik began into the darkness.

"You need your rest."

"Yes…"

"Dream of your role. You belong in it."

Erik slid into the darkness – letting it surround him. Angelina sighed and began toward the dormitories.

Meg stepped out of her hiding spot and watched as Angelina seemed to skip toward her room.

_It cannot be…_

There had been rumors of the Opera Ghost lurking in the shadows. Meg knew he had taken care of Angelina after the incident when she had first arrived. She thought it was over – the obsession gone.

_Angelina has fallen under his spell…_

Rushing from the stage, Meg knew what she had to do. It was her responsibility – her duty. She had to protect Angelina at all costs.

_It is time.

* * *

_

_Dearest Christine,_

_I write this letter to you with the utmost urgency. I have failed you. I have failed in protecting Angelina. I assure you that she is fine and in good health. But I fear that something worse than any illness has taken hold of her._

_The Phantom of the Opera still exists. I do not want to alarm you, Christine. I did not want to have to do this. But I fear Angelina's life might be in danger. The Phantom has taken hold and Angelina has fallen under his spell._

_Please come to Paris. I know you are still mourning over the loss of Alexander. I fear that you will lose Angelina soon if you do not come._

_Tell whoever you must. Bring whoever you can. Angelina's life is in danger and I cannot stop what is already transpiring._

_With All My Love,_

_Meg_


	50. The Truth of the Matter

**A/N:** _I have told Phoenix to keep this chapter intact. To split it would not give the feeling I want it to give. I hope that this chapter sheds some light on what is to come. Many hate Meg for what she has done. It was only a matter of time before Angelina and I were caught. Do not blame her for our mistake. _

_Please read and review as always. The curtain will rise and the stage will be yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 48 – The Truth of the Matter**

Angelina looked at the once opulent building in front of her. It had been a grand opera house. Many tales had been told of what had happened the night it had been set aflame.

_The Opera Populaire…_

Her mother had once sung there – a great diva. It was her last performance on a stage in Paris. She had performed in London, Rome, even in America. But she had never set foot in Paris again. Angelina had always wondered why but every time she would ask, she was met with block after block. Her mother had always found excuses to give her. Even her father, who always confided in her, would not give her a straight answer.

The structure still seemed to be intact. But Angelina knew that the insides would be much different. Everyone knew that it was the crashing of the large crystal chandelier that caused the fire. It began right by the stage and engulfed the opera house before anyone could control it. Luckily, everyone was spared with very few injuries.

_My first home was not this opera house. I lived beneath the Opera Populaire._

Angelina looked at the opera house. Her breathing became heavy as she could recall what Erik had told her before he revealed his face to her. She smiled at the thought of him being so trustworthy of her. Angelina would not take back the moment for a hundred years.

Beginning to walk back down the road toward the Opera Garnier, Angelina's thoughts continued to wander…

_There had been many talents that had gone through the corridors. I had fallen in love with a beautiful young dancer who turned into the most exquisite singer…_

A chill ran up Angelina's spine as she recalled that bit of his tale.

…_a beautiful young dancer…_

Her eyes grew wide and her pace slowed.

_Erik knew my mother. It cannot be…_

Racing toward the opera house, Angelina's heart quickened.

_Please God, tell me it is not true!

* * *

_

Erik turned quickly as he heard footsteps running down the staircase. He watched as Angelina stood across the lake from him – out of breath.

"I want to know it all."

Erik could not find the words. "Know all of what, Angelina?"

"The young dancer you fell in love with…was it my mother?"

She watched as the sheet music floated into the lake. His eyes grew wide.

"It was…Erik, why did you not…?"

"This was not the way I wanted you to find out."

Turning away from her, he could bare for her to see him. Everything would be laid out in front of her – the obsession, the deaths, the vendetta...

_God, please…_

"Erik, I want to know."

"Where do I start?"

"From the beginning. I do not want lies. I want answers."

"You are becoming rather demanding…"

"When it is your soul on the line you tend to be."

Erik sighed. The lake seemed so large. Angelina was out of reach. He could not touch her; hold her hand, as he wanted.

"Erik, the beginning…"

"Your mother was brought to the opera house soon after her father died. Monsieur Daae was a great musician. Madam Giry was a good friend of his."

"How old was my mother?"

"I do not remember her age. No more than ten."

Angelina nodded. "Go on."

"Her father had promised to send her an angel of music…"

Angelina's head began to spin. _An angel of music._

"…she was so distraught that one night, while she was praying in the chapel, I went to her. I spoke to her. She quickly assumed that I was her angel of music."

"Did you do anything to tell her that you were not?"

Erik shook his head. "No."

"So you coached her, as you did with me?"

"There are so many differences between you and her. There is no comparison."

Erik knew that Angelina would not believe him. It would take a long time before Angelina ever believed him again.

"You coached her?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Until the night she saw me."

"After her performance?"

"She claimed the lead of Hannibal after Senora Giudicelli happily left the spot open."

_Much like Brigitte…_

"I had heard her even in the depths of the opera house."

"But something happened?"

Erik cringed, not wanting to bring up the boy. He was the reason why he was not with Christine. But he was also the reason why he had Angelina.

"Her childhood sweetheart returned…"

"My father?"

He could not speak and could only nod his head. Erik watched as Angelina began around the lake, slowly.

"Did you hate him?"

"Not at that moment. I chose that time to reveal myself to your mother. There was a large mirror in the dressing room. I used…" Erik stopped, not wanting to reveal any more. "…Angelina, please…"

"Everything, Erik."

"I used magic, illusions, to make your mother feel more comfortable around me. To make it feel as though she were with her angel of music."

"Have you used illusions on me?"

Erik knew he had used one illusion but she was not the only one who saw it.

_Lie to her to protect her…lie to her to continue loving her…_

"No."

Angelina looked at the rippling lake. It looked like how she felt inside of her. "What happened next?"

"I continued to try and make her love me. Then when she awoke in the morning, she stripped me of my mask. I grew angry and I knew I should not have."

Angelina peered at Erik in shock. _How could my mother do that?_ "She stripped you of your mask?"

"She was curious. I should not have grown angry with her. But I did not want her to see me. She did not need to see what I looked like. I was her angel of music and here I was…" Peeling off his mask and wig, he threw them to the floor. Angelina jumped as rage consumed him. "…angry at her!"

"Erik…"

"And the damn Vicomte! The owners did not listen to me. I ordered them to put Christine in the lead but they denied me my request. So I did what I had to do."

"You killed that man…"

"Joseph Buquet was a horrible man. He was not a man to be trusted."

"So you killed him?"

"I killed him, yes."

Angelina shivered at the thought. There was no remorse in his voice. There was only anger and hatred.

"Then I listened to your father propose to Christine. My Christine…"

Angelina watched him closely as he began toward her.

"I loved her and vowed then and there that I would do anything to have her."

Her eyes widened in realization. "Don Juan…"

"I would spend the next three months writing the opera that would bring Christine back into my arms."

He stopped and watched her small frame tremble. His voice continued to echo off of the walls. Lowering his head, he let his demeanor calm.

"The Masquerade would prove to be my downfall."

"That is why you did not want to go with me."

Nodding his head, Erik continued. "It was a few days after that your father and I would fight for your mother's affections."

"His scar…on his upper arm…"

"There was a swordfight in the middle of the cemetery. My revenge and vendetta grew. My blood boiled at the mere sight of your father."

Angelina could understand his reasoning. Her father challenged his affections for her mother. It was only logical that jealousy would consume him.

"Don Juan would be my last chance to prove to your mother that I loved her."

"From what I understand, it did not go well." She remembered Don Juan and how it felt to be in it. His eyes sparkled as they looked at her. "What is it?"

"I was Don Juan that night you performed."

Her breath caught. "You were…?"

"Yes. Yes, I was."

It was her turn to move forward. Her feet seemed to guide her to him.

"What happened, Erik? What happened after Don Juan?"

"I lost it. I cut the rope to the chandelier and sent it crashing to the stage as I began to drag Christine to my lair." His eyes closed, remembering the next scene of his life. "Your father, of course, came in search of her. I received the upper hand and bound him against the grate. I demanded that your mother needed to marry me or I would kill her one true love."

Tears began to sting Angelina's eyes. She could not believe all that she was hearing. "Erik, you could not be that…"

"Cruel? You have no idea, Angelina."

"Please, Erik, I do not want to…"

"She kissed me." A smile slowly crept onto his face. "She kissed me and set me free."

Angelina watched as his face seemed to glow. He began to move toward her, joining her in her slow pace.

"I let her go, Angelina." He watched her expression change. "I set them free."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I loved her too much to keep her against her will."

"You are not as cruel as you say."

"I condemned myself to solitude to set the one woman I loved free."

Angelina let her tears flow. As she suspected, he did not love her. "You still love my mother then?"

"Yes…" He let the answer linger in the air. Thinking of the kiss that he initiated just days prior, he smiled. Erik loved Angelina and there was no denying it. "…but not the way I used to. She has moved on with her life. I could not stop what her heart wanted."

Moving back toward the organ, Angelina watched as he withdrew a small velvet box from a hidden compartment. Walking back down toward her, he slowly began to open the box.

"Your mother gave me a gift before she left…" Stepping in front of Angelina, he showed her the ring Christine had left with him before she had slipped into the night with Raoul.

"It is a ring."

"It was the ring your father gave to your mother as an engagement promise. I snatched it from her at the Masquerade."

Her fingers gently glided over it, feeling the smoothness of the diamond.

"She left it for me. Some days I think it as beautiful as a star in the sky. There are other days I feel it is a ring of torture – meant to torment me all of my days."

Closing the box, he placed it in Angelina's palm and closed her fingers over it.

"It is yours now."

"Erik…"

"I am no longer a part of that past. I have moved beyond everything I have ever done." Turning away from her, he began back into the darkness where he belonged. "Leave me."

Angelina could feel the soft velvet under her fingers. But the ring seemed more like a dead weight than anything. The ring was a symbol of love between two men and a beautiful dancer.

"Erik, I cannot take this."

"Take it and leave me. I am the Phantom of the Opera. If you stay any longer, you will end up just like your mother."

"She is happy, Erik."

"With someone else…which is where you should be. Go to Monsieur de Wynter."

"I gave him back his ring. I sent it back, Erik."

Everything he willed to move did not. His body did not comply with his mind.

"We are no longer engaged. I am free to see who I wish."

He began to grow angry. She was supposed to be repulsed by what he had done. Yet, she stood in the same exact spot she did many moments ago.

"You must leave."

"I am not running. Not now, not ever."

"Go!" His command echoed off of the walls. The water trembled. Angelina stood steadfast and did not move.

"I am not leaving, Monsieur. You have told me the truth. It is a truth that neither of us can deny."

Erik leaned on the organ for support. He was angry, tired, and frustrated. He wanted to be alone.

"I am the daughter of Raoul de Chagny and Christine de Chagny – whom you know as Christine Daae…"

He would not look at her – his mind willing her away.

"…I am not my father and I am not my mother. Whatever grudge they bear against you I do not hold."

Angelina began toward him, dropping the ring.

"I am not running. I will not run. I will work through the things you have told me. There is a great deal I must still think about. But once I am done, I am returning…to you."

"Leave the Opera Ghost in peace."

"You are not the Opera Ghost!" Her voice echoed as much as his did. "The man I know now is not the Phantom of the Opera. The man my parents knew was. I do not know that man."

"Leave, Angelina."

"Push all you want. I am not leaving." Her foot hit rock – the wood in her ballet slipper making the sound she needed him to hear. It sounded much like Madam Giry's cane.

"Angelina…"

"I want Erik here with me. This man who is standing in front of me belongs in the shadows. Erik is in the light. He has stepped out from the darkness into the light with me. Where is he!"

"He is dead."

"Why? Because you told me the truth?"

"Because you should be running from me! Why do you stay with me when you know every secret I have kept! You have seen my face and yet you do not run. You know I have murdered men, you do not run…"

"I am my own person, Erik. I choose who I want to be with."

"Then choose someone else."

"You would shun me as you have been shunned all of these years!"

Erik's heart broke in two. He did not want to hurt her as so many others had hurt him. The truth was out. She did not run and hide. Angelina had held her own and did not condemn him for his actions.

"Please, Angelina…"

"Do not leave me." Putting a hand on his shoulder, she could feel him tense. "Do not make me leave you…please."

Angelina could hear him sob as the organ supported his weight.

"Everything I am…everything…Angelina, I am a monster."

He slid to the cold rock floor as tears streamed down his cheeks – both marred and unmarred. Without hesitation, she caressed his cheek as he fell into her embrace. Angelina began to rock him back and forth as every emotion Erik had ever felt came to the surface.

"Angelina, please forgive me."

"Shhh…your past is your past. I cannot control the man you were."

"I am that man, Angelina."

"No…" He could feel her smile against him. Her hand continued to caress the deformity he had come to hate with such passion, but it seemed to dull at her touch. "…you are not the Phantom. Erik, you are my angel."

"Just like I was Christine's…"

"You were pretending to be my mother's. I am not my mother. You said that yourself. I believe in angels, Erik. I believe I was sent one."

She continued to hold onto him as he wept. So many barriers were brought down. Many bridges were crossed. Angelina had yet to meet Erik on the other side. What she had found out was still sinking in. But she did not blame Erik. It was odd. Her heart did not allow her to.

As much as she was angry at him, she could not turn him away. Her longing for him was still there. As he lay in her arms, Angelina could feel her heart skip a beat.

_Please God, let me find the strength to forgive Erik for what he has done. Many years have passed since the incident between him and my parents. I wish for them to forgive him but I know they will not. I love him. I must find it within me to forgive him. My heart has but I fear the rest of me has not. Guide me.

* * *

_

He watched Angelina sleep upon her bed. It had been a long day for both of them. Erik could still feel his eyes burning from the tears he had shed. His mask and wig were back in place even though she willed them to stay off. The journey back to her bedroom had been full of silence. He feared silence now more than anything in the world. All he wanted was to hear Angelina's voice and he did not.

_She will forgive me, over time._

The way his past had been told was not the way it had been planned in his mind. He had been angry – coarse. She had not shed as many tears as he had.

_Stupid fool!_

Beginning back toward the mirror, Erik listened as Angelina muttered his name. Erik knew she was dreaming of him. He feared of what she was dreaming. Her tossing and turning was not a good sign.

Before he could begin back to his lair, he noticed the de Chagny seal next to the door. Walking over, Erik picked up the letter and noticed the handwriting on the front.

_Christine…_

His fingers fumbled but undid the seal.

_What are you doing!_

Erik did not listen. His mind was screaming no while his heart knew something was wrong. Reading the first line, his mind began to follow his heart.

_My Beautiful Daughter_

_Please, read this with the utmost urgency. Meg has written to me, telling me of your involvement with a man in a mask. I am asking you…begging you to come home immediately. Angelina, the man is not safe. I wish I could begin to tell you what he has done to your father and I in this letter, but I cannot. The story is too long and too painful to tell._

_Please, come home at once. This is not a request. I want you home, safe where he cannot touch you._

_With much love,_

_Your mother_

Erik crumpled the note in his hand – anger filling him. Christine and Raoul would try to take away the one person he loved. He had to find some way to secure that Angelina would not leave him.

_His opera…_

He did not want it to turn into another Don Juan. Plans needed to be made. Erik quickly looked at Angelina one last time before moving into the lit corridor.

Sliding the mirror shut behind him, he leaned on the mirror for support.

_Angelina cannot leave me…_

Turning to the mirror, he looked at Angelina sleeping in bed. Placing his hand to the glass, he smiled.

"I love you."


	51. Setting a Soul Free

**A/N:** _We are slowly coming to an end. Just for reference, the next post after this will consist of three parts. Phoenix wanted Chapter 50 split. It is a very long chapter and she feels too long to post all at once. So please be patient with her. She is doing it for a purpose._

_This chapter has a large space in my heart. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. A reminder, Phoenix will be posting a new story soon after this one. She has already written nine chapters and is anxious to post. Erik will reveal the name on the next posting._

_As always, the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 49 – Setting a Soul Free**

Meg paced the stage, not bothering to watch the dancers perform. Her mind was filled with what she had seen only days prior.

_She has succumbed to the Phantom…_

The music abruptly ended, knocking Meg out of her daze. Glancing up, she noticed all of the dancers staring at her.

"Take a break."

She watched as Angelina began toward the back stage area.

"Angelina, I need to speak with you."

Moving off to the side, she watched as her goddaughter approached her. Her step seemed full of life and love.

_Please God, grant me the strength…_

"Madam Giry, is there something wrong?"

"The other night, I saw you practicing on stage."

"I do that almost every night."

"You were not alone."

Angelina looked into Meg's eyes and saw fear. Swallowing hard, she looked away. "There was no one with me on stage, Madam."

"Do not lie to me, Angelina."

"I would never…"

"The Phantom was with you on this stage!" Meg caught herself – not allowing anyone else to hear her.

Angelina strained to keep a straight face. _She knows of Erik…_ "Madam, please…"

"You are not to see him again."

She was taken aback. "You have no right…"

"Until your mother and father can come to Paris, you are not to see him again."

"I am a grown woman!"

"You are a child!" Meg was growing frustrated. She knew of the pain that Christine and Raoul had gone through. It would not happen again. "You are to stay away from him."

"I will do as I please, Madam. Do what you must. But I will see him when I please."

As Angelina began to walk away, Meg's hand grasped her arm. Angelina's glare did not deter Meg from what she would say to her.

"You do not know him."

"Yes, I do. More than you would like."

"Stay away from him, Angelina."

"No." Pulling away from her, she began into the darkness where Meg feared she would go. "I will not. He is the only man I can trust – the only one."

She fled the stage as Meg stepped forward. Looking up to the sky, Meg muttered to herself in frustration.

"You will never regain her trust now, Meg."

Turning, she watched as her mother stepped onto the stage. "The Phantom is dangerous."

"Not to her."

"Mother, you know what happened to Christine and to Raoul. If he hurts Angelina, I will never forgive myself."

"Leave things as they are."

Meg could not believe what she was hearing. "Mother…"

"Do not debate me on this. Leave her alone. You will make matters worse." Placing a hand on Meg's shoulder, she smiled at her. "She is safe. Trust me."

* * *

"Again."

"Erik, I am growing tired."

Sitting on a step, Angelina looked out at the calm water in front of her. She had never seen it so tranquil. The music continued to play all around her even as she saw Erik stand up.

"Something is bothering you."

"It is nothing."

"Tell me." Erik sat next to her. Instead of watching the water, he watched her. Emotions played in her eyes. Something had disturbed her before she had traveled down to see him. Angelina would not tell him what but it was worrying him.

"It is this opera."

"Is it?"

Angelina quickly nodded her head. She would not tell him of the discussion she had with Madam Giry earlier in the day. If he found out, she was afraid of what would happen. Would he grow mad? Would he leave and never return – leaving her alone and afraid? There were too many questions that needed to be answered before she could openly tell him what happened.

"It is different now that I know it is yours."

"Why?"

"I do not want to disappoint you."

Erik merely nodded his head. "You will not disappoint me. This role was written for you."

"Which makes it that much worse." Turning to him, she looked at him with fear in her eyes. "If I fail you, this opera will fail as well."

"You will not fail, Angelina. Where is this coming from? Why are you so frightened of this?"

"It is not something I have done before."

"It is merely an opera. You have performed in many."

"It is an opera in which you are the composer!"

She stood; nearly knocking Erik into the stone wall he sat by. He watched as frustration overtook her body. Angelina kicked at the water, soaking her white ballet slipper.

"Angelina, you will ruin the slipper!"

"I am wearing the black ones on the night of the performance."

"That does not matter." He knew she would never ruin her slippers unless something was wrong. "Tell me what is wrong."

"Everything!" Everything that she felt was being bottled up. It had filled to the brim, ready to spill out. From her frustration with Meg and her parents to the love she would deny herself because she did not have the courage to tell Erik.

She felt Erik stand and approach her. His hand touched her bare shoulder, setting her skin on fire. "Please, Erik…"

"Tell me."

"I cannot."

"Your heart is breaking. Tell me what happened this morning."

"Nothing happened. Please, do not ask me again."

Erik let his hand drop from her shoulder. His touch would not ease the pain that was suffocating her. Whatever it was, was giving her heartache that he could not send away.

"If you need to talk to someone, know that you may come to me at any time."

He began back up to his organ as Angelina looked at him with tears in her eyes.

_I love you…_

The words Meg had said to her earlier in the day still haunted her. But her heart could not deny what it wanted any longer.

"Erik, wait…"

He stopped – not wanting to turn around.

"There is something I have been meaning to tell you."

He could hear her step toward him. His breath caught as she laid a hand on his arm.

"I am sorry for the way I have treated you today."

"I just worry."

"Of this I know." Turning him, Angelina looked into Erik's iridescent eyes. They captured her – pulled her in. "Please forgive me."

"There is always forgiveness in my heart for you, Angelina."

"There is something…" _How do I say this?_ "There is something I have wished to tell you for some time."

"Angelina, you do not have to tell me anything you do not want to."

"I know." She hesitated but smiled. "Erik, I…"

Erik watched as Angelina stumbled over the words she was about to say. _Is she trying to say 'I love you'?_

"I…" It was no use. There were no words that would escape her lips. It was as if her throat had collapsed. But Angelina knew she did not want to deter from what she wanted to do. Bringing herself forward, she looked at Erik. There was no hesitation in the action. Her lips were on his – tasting the sweet sensation she had been longing for since the last time his lips met hers.

Erik's eyes closed as his arms wrapped around her. _God, is this a dream?_ The kiss deepened as she parted his lips. His senses went sent soaring to the heavens as her tongue and hands searched every part of him.

She felt for the edge of the mask and quickly removed it. Angelina heard him groan but her touch silenced him. She hoped that Erik would understand the meaning behind the kiss – that no words needed to be spoken. Letting herself part from him, she took a step back and watched as his eyes slowly opened.

Silence hung in the air as if it was a stage curtain ready to drop after a masterful performance. There were no words to be uttered. Erik's heart had stopped. He died and had flown to heaven. Trying to contain a smile, he looked toward Angelina – who seemed to be just as taken back.

"Erik…"

"No words, Angelina. Please…"

Nodding her head, she smiled at him. "I must return. The performance is only a few days away. I must get some rest."

"Yes, you should."

She began to walk toward the stairs. His hand instinctively went to his marred cheek.

"Angelina, my mask…"

"You do not need it."

"Please…"

"I do not want you to wear this in my presence. It is a bridge that we have crossed. I know who you are, Erik. The mask only prevents me from seeing your beauty."

"This is not beauty, Angelina."

"It is to me. And that is all that matters."

Erik watched her ascend the stairs with a renewed vigor. He stood, basked in light. His hand gently touched his lips, as if clinging to what had just happened.

_She kissed me…_

Stumbling toward his organ, like a man that had too much to drink, he sat at his organ and began to play. His fingers flew over the ivory keys without thought or care. He smiled, knowing that even in the depths of his lair; his music would be carried to Angelina in the darkness of her room. Erik would bring her light with his music. He would give her the light that she had given him.

A kiss had set him free. He now knew Angelina loved him. There were no words needed. She had set his soul free. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he continued to smile.

_The kiss of an angel…_

His thoughts would not let him sleep tonight. Erik knew that he would continue to play until the sun rose. It would be a new day and he would join in the light that would fill it.


	52. There Was a Priest,a Girl,& a Boy:Part I

**A/N:** _Welcome to MY opera! As previously posted, this chapter will be split into three parts due to the length. I have been waiting for the moment since Phoenix has started posting. This is it…this is MY opera._

_As always, read and review. Part II will be posted later tonight. As promised, I will reveal the new title of Phoenix's Phantom story. I hope you welcome the new Erik with open arms as you have done with me. Look for it to be posted soon after Light ends._

'_**In the Mind's Eye'**_

_And now, my loyal patrons…the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 50 – There Was a Priest, a Girl, & a Boy…: Part I**

The stage had been set for days. Most of the workers had worked overtime to ensure that it was done. This was the Opera Garnier's most important opera and everyone involved had made sure it would go off without a hitch.

No one had any idea of what was being performed. Only the dancers and the managers knew what the audience had in store. Arnaud had been worried for days and Meg could not console his fears. She could not console her own. It was hard to imagine anything coming about and the way this one had scared the both of them.

Meg worried more for Angelina then the opera itself. Arnaud had no clue as to why Meg's fears would not be satisfied. Christine and Raoul were both on their way. Raoul had found out who Angelina had met and his anger was beyond anything that Meg could have imagined. Christine's fears were great and Meg could do nothing to help them.

Angelina had fallen in love and she knew it. Meg begged Angelina to listen to reason but Angelina would hear nothing of it. Erik consumed her morning, noon, and night. She had no idea the severity of the relationship but she could just imagine how far Angelina and Erik had gone.

The Opera Ghost was real and it claimed the life of an innocent…

* * *

Angelina shivered as she stood in front of the mirror. She looked at her reflection and noted how pale she looked.

_Please, tell me it is because I am nervous. Tell me it is not because I am sick._

She had rehearsed all week with Erik. The fears that she had felt had grown in intensity as the week had progressed. She refused to tell Erik. The opera was his and she did not want to disappoint him. He had asked her several times what was wrong and she would repeat her mantra – _nothing_.

Her nerves were shot and every reserve she had: gone. She shivered but not from the cold – from her nerves. If Erik had seen her now, his face would turn and grow glum. She had to be in top form but her nerves would not comply with what her mind told her to do. Angelina was shaking and it was becoming violent. She sat in a chair in front of the mirror. Her head slowly rose and her eyes met the eyes that were reflected in the mirror.

_God, please grant me the strength to perform tonight. Do not let me disappoint Erik and the rest of the opera house. This is my shot. Please do not let me lose it._

Taking a deep breath, she slowly rose on sturdier legs. She straightened her black dress and sighed.

"This is your time – your moment. Take it."

* * *

Fear. Hate. Desire. Passion. Anger. Happiness. Erik could not figure out the emotions that stirred within him. Angelina and he had grown close over the months that she had been in Paris. It was this opera that drove them even closer. The kiss, just days prior, still burned within him. It touched his heart unlike anything ever had. It had feeling behind it, unlike the one he had shared with Christine.

She knew everything and had not run. His past with Christine, with Raoul, and his face – she still had not run. It was either a miracle or he was just blind to see how much she really despised him.

His opera would be performed tonight and Angelina would be the star. Rene would star along side as would a new tenor. What the young tenor did not know was that he would be quickly replaced by him. He would not pass up the opportunity to star in the opera that he had written for Angelina.

It would not be like Don Juan, Erik had promised himself that. There would be no trap door or anything of the like. Everything would go according to plan and he would hear his angel's voice. No one would disturb the performance. And he would take a large chance and be unmasked for the entire performance.

_Angelina…_

He knew of the fears she possessed. She denied it of course, making sure not to disappoint him. But he expected it. This would truly be the first opera that she carried. Don Juan was nothing but this was everything. Angelina feared disappointing him but he knew that nothing she did would ever disappoint him. Erik had fallen in love.

He turned to the covered wall and pulled away the drape that covered it. A large mirror loomed in front of him. His hand gently touched the mask that had covered his face for years. It seemed to plague him now – an unwanted piece of clothing that he longed to strip.

The fingers on his large hand grasped the mask and ripped it from his face. The mask fell to the ground – shattering. Erik would be on stage naked for the entire world to see.

"This is your time – your moment. Take it."

* * *

Christine and Raoul both sat in Box Five. The empty seat near them still left a hole in their heart. Alexander was still missed and they both knew it hit Angelina harder than she admitted.

Raoul was ready to save his daughter much like he did with Christine the night she performed on stage with the Phantom. His heart was racing and his mind continued to think of how to save his child – his daughter.

She was everything to him. Angelina claimed his heart as any daughter would a father. But there was a bond there that no one could touch. Christine knew this and let him grow close with their daughter. Christine could not reach Angelina as he had. It was difficult for her but she understood.

His daughter had met the Phantom. Raoul had failed in his task to protect his daughter. He had wept for nights after thinking how close the monster was to her. The story was told quickly to Christine and she had insisted on coming to Paris at that moment. His mind continued to turn and formed several ideas on how to reclaim his daughter.

_This is your time – your moment. Take it.

* * *

_

Rene looked at Angelina pacing near the right stage entrance. His master had told him of the nervousness of the young woman. The Opera Ghost, Erik, had told him to protect her until he could reach her again. Rene had grown quite fondly of Angelina but he dare not cross the path of Erik. He knew what lied within the Phantom's heart – love. It was the deepest devotion that any man could have for a woman.

_Does she know? Does she know how much he loves her?_

"Angelina, you need to stop pacing."

"I am too nervous to stop pacing."

"This is just another opera."

"There is a difference in this opera, Rene. I am sorry but I cannot stay calm about this."

Rene knew that she worried about disappointment. This was the Phantom's opera. She did not want to fail him.

The orchestra began its melody as both Rene and Angelina looked toward the stage. The candlelight slowly began to brighten. Rene watched as Angelina's face began to grow pale. He rushed to her side and grasped her by the shoulders.

"Listen to me. This is your night. This is your opera. Brigitte is nowhere near it. All of Paris is waiting to hear you sing. You will not disappoint anyone. Do you hear me?"

Angelina slowly nodded her head.

"Just imagine the man that you love so much watching you. Know that he is with you and beside you. Let his love consume you and carry you."

Angelina rose on her tip toes and kissed Rene on the cheek. They both looked at each other for several moments.

"Thank you."

No other words needed to be expressed. Their relationship was more then just friends. They were almost as if they were brother and sister. She had clung to him after her brother's death. Erik and he were the only outlets she had. They had grown closer after that event and he thanked God for it. There was a special place in his heart for her that he would cherish for all time.

"Go show Paris the woman I have come to love."

Angelina swallowed hard and turned her back to him. He watched her take a deep breath and began out onto the stage.


	53. There Was a Priest, a Girl, & a Boy:PII

**A/N:** _Phoenix does not want to do it, but Erik and I have discussed it and wish to leave you with a cliffhanger. Please enjoy this chapter. I hope that the title of the chapter is a little more clear now._

_The curtain rises…the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

_PS…The songs in this part are credited to the wonderful musical 'Jekyll & Hyde' and once again to Monsieur Josh Groban. Thank you once again._

**Chapter 50 – There was a Priest, a Girl, & a Boy…: Part II**

The stage looked like a large church. A large cross hung along the back of the stage as pews lined up to the front of the stage.

The orchestra began its crescendo as Angelina appeared at the back of the stage. Her head was bowed as she slowly looked up.

_The entire house is packed!_ Her nerves were now completely gone. One last breath before her part began; she began to walk forward, not looking out at the audience.

"I peek through windows, watch life go by. Dream of tomorrow and wonder why…The past is holding me, keeping life at bay. I wander lost in yesterday…Wanting to fly…but scared to try."

She looked out into the audience. Angelina imagined Erik sitting in the front row and she slowly began to smile.

"But if someone like you found someone like me…Then suddenly…nothing would ever be the same!"

Her arms outstretched and her eyes closed as the smile grew in intensity.

"My heart would take wing…and I'd feel so alive! If someone like you, found me…"

Angelina's eyes slowly opened as she began to pace around the stage. A confessional booth was just in front of her. She paused in front of it, looking at it as if her life depended on it.

"So many secrets I long to share…All I have needed…is someone there? To help me see a world, I've never seen before. A love to open every door…To set me free…so I can soar!"

Her hand gently touched the confessional box.

* * *

Rene watched as Angelina's eyes closed. She lived the part. The part consumed her and became a part of her. Angelina had no idea how good she was. There was only one man who did – Erik.

* * *

Raoul watched his daughter closely. Christine's hand was grasping his so tightly the blood flow had stopped. Angelina was absolutely amazing. But her performance could not deter him from the task at hand. His eyes were watching for any signs of the Phantom. This time, he would not get away.

* * *

"If someone like you, found someone like me…Then suddenly nothing would ever be the same! There'd be a new way to live! A new life to love…if someone like you found me!"

Angelina turned and began toward the cross. She listened to the music grow in intensity. Monsieur Laurent conducted his orchestra with passion and life. He made sure this piece was no different.

"Oh, if someone like you…found someone like me…Then suddenly! Nothing would ever be the same!"

Although she was often told by her mother never to face her back to the audience, she took a risk. _Risk is something that you often have to take._ Erik had told her that repeatedly. This was the time and place to do it. Her arms outstretched and she looked at the cross in front of her.

"My heart would take wing…and I'd feel so alive!"

Her voice echoed and the audience was silent. A few jumped but others were awed by how powerful she had become.

"If someone like you…loved me…"

She slowly fell to her knees and continued to look at the cross in front of her.

"…loved me…loved me…"

Angelina's voice slowly drifted off into the night. The audience continued to be silent as the candlelight slowly began to dim.

* * *

Rene watched a figure toward the back of the stage talking to the young tenor that would play the priest. He watched the young man walk away and another take his place.

_Erik…what are you doing?_

The figure's face looked at Rene and seemed to stare right through him. No words were needed. Erik longed to be near Angelina during her performance. The only way he could was by being on the stage with her.

But something was different. There was something missing. Rene's eyes widened as he noticed what it was.

_His mask is gone. He is not wearing his mask!_

Before he could even comprehend what he was seeing, Rene watched Erik begin into the back entrance of the confessional booth. There was no stopping anything now. Rene only hoped that the Phantom knew what he was doing.

* * *

Angelina knelt in front of the cross. Her heart was pounding and would not stop. She barely registered the light dimming. The sound of her heart pounding filled her head. But the change in tempo and song drowned out the pounding.

The young tenor was good – Angelina heard him several times before actually rehearsing with him. But he was no match for Erik. She longed to be with him on stage and not just imagining he was there with her.

"I have been blind…unwilling to see. The true love you're giving, I have ignored every blessing….I'm on my knees – confessing."

Her eyes slowly opened as she heard the door to the confessional booth open. _That voice! Can it be?_

"That I feel myself surrender each time I see your face…I am staggered by your beauty…your unassuming grace…"

Angelina's head slowly turned and watched the figure walk out of the confessional and begin around the stage. He was shrouded in darkness. But his presence was felt. It sent a shiver down Angelina's spine and willed her to slowly stand.

* * *

Erik watched his angel slowly stand in front of the cross. He knew she felt his presence. But she still did not know it truly was him. He smiled at the thought of surprising her but also surprising everyone else.

"And I feel my heart is turning…falling into place! I can't hide…now hear…my confession."

He stopped in the shadows and watched her look at him. God how he longed to be with her for all eternity. To feel her touch and listen to her voice would give him the life that he had longed for.

* * *

Both Christine and Raoul knew who was on the stage with Angelina. The voice did not help him.

"Raoul, you need to save her."

"I already am."

Christine looked at Raoul, puzzled by his statement.

"What have you done?"

"You will see, my love." He kissed the back of her hand to assure her everything would be alright. His plan was already in motion. His daughter's safety was assured.

* * *

"I have been wrong about you. Thought I was strong without you."

She was weak without Erik. Angelina knew this. His voice was haunting her. _This could not be him. It cannot be. He would have told me._

"For so long nothing could move me…For so long nothing could change me!"

The voice resonated all around her. It echoed not only through the opera house but in her mind as well. Angelina watched as the figure began toward her again. She slowly began to walk away and into the light. Angelina was unsure of who it was. _It is my mind playing tricks on me again._

"Now I feel myself surrender…each time I see your face. I am captured by your beauty…your unassuming grace!"

The figure's hand outstretched toward her. Every instinct within her body screamed not to reach for it. But her heart told her otherwise. Before she could grasp it, the figure moved back into the darkness, circling her once again.

* * *

Erik watched her try to reach for him. It was not time yet. He knew just when he needed her touch and this was not the moment. Slowly beginning to circle her again, he ignored everyone and everything around him. The audience did not matter any more. It was Angelina and only her.

"And I feel my heart is turning…falling into place. I can't hide! Now hear my confession."

He stepped half way into the light. The unmarred part of his face showed within the light. He watched Angelina's face light up at the sight of him. Erik was dressed in clerical clothes. The white collar on his neck was perfect and neat as was the rest of his costume. He spared no expense on how he looked.

"You are the air I breathe. You're the ground beneath my feet…When did I stop believing!"

He stepped into the light and ignored the gasps from all around. Erik slowly began toward Angelina – his angel.

* * *

Angelina watched Erik step into the light. Her mind silenced the gasped that surrounded her. He was beautiful.

_He is not wearing his mask._

A smile slowly crept over her face. Erik had come to her as she had always wanted him to – as himself.

"Cause I feel myself surrender, each time I see your face. I am staggered by your beauty…your unassuming grace!"

* * *

He dared not touch her but walked around her – like a lion stalking its prey. Her petite figure seemed bigger somehow. Something possessed her and made her seem alive. Erik heard the audience talking amongst themselves, discussing his deformity. It did not matter any more. Angelina did not think him a monster. That was all that mattered to him.

"And I feel my heart…falling into place! I can't hide…now hear my confession!"

Stopping behind her, her scent captured him. _Warm vanilla._ It nearly drove him to the brink of insanity but he stopped, realizing that he was near the end of his song.

"I can't hide…now hear my confession…"

His hands slowly rose and lingered near her neck. They did not touch but he watched Angelina's eyes glaze over at just the thought of his touch.

"…hear my confession…"

The orchestra slowly ended the song. Silence hung in the air but it did not haunt him as it usually did. It filled him. The next song would join them. He longed for it to start and instead of filling him, the silence now held him back from his future.


	54. There Was a Priest, a Girl, & a Boy:PIII

**A/N:** _This is act III. I hope that you are enjoying the story thus far. It only has three more chapters. I am sad but happy at the same time. Please enjoy the rest of the story._

_The two songs in this chapter do not belong to me. They belong to the very beautiful musical 'Jekyll and Hyde' and Monsieur Josh Groban. Without them, this chapter would not be possible._

_A minor correction from a previous chapter. I had called Phoenix's new story **'In the Mind's Eye'** when in fact it will be called **'Into the Mind's Eye'**. Please look for it. I'm sure Phoenix and the new Erik will be happy to hear all you have to say._

_The curtain rises…the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 50 – There was a Priest, a Girl, & a Boy…: Part III**

Monsieur Laurent was never one for silence. But the sight before him stopped him cold before beginning the next song. The man before him seemed to be in a trance. He watched the man look at Angelina with longing.

Slowly raising his baton, he began the next song. It was darker then the rest but it was one of his favorites.

* * *

Angelina felt Erik's presence behind her. She looked out the corner of her eye and noticed his hands hovering just near her neck. This next song was her favorite. She knew what the young tenor went through during rehearsal. He was uncertain of himself and was afraid to touch her. Angelina had no doubts about that being changed.

"I feel your fingers…cold on my shoulder." Erik's hands slowly touched her bare shoulders, already beginning to the next sensitive spot on her body. "Your chilling touch as it runs down my spine!"

His hands glided down her back and slowly began around her waist. It sent shivers up her spine. She could feel his smile. She did not even have to see it.

"Watching your eyes…" His arms twisted while he stood along side her. The arms never let go of her tiny waist but their eyes locked as she looked at him. "…as they invade my soul. Forbidden pleasures, I'm afraid to make mine."

She tried to cover her hands with his but he began to back away from her. _Where are you going?_ The loss of his touch made her weak.

"At the touch of your hand…at the sound of your voice…at the moment your eyes meet mine!"

He faded into the darkness again. She cursed the darkness. It invited him and not her. She hoped her voice would draw him out.

* * *

Her back was to him now. The darkness shrouded him once again – keeping her from seeing him. He listened to her – her voice his drug.

"I am out of my mind! I am out of control! Full of feelings I can't define!"

He smiled as he watched her. "It's a sin with no name."

"Like a hand in a flame."

"As our senses proclaim…"

Their voices joined and echoed. It filled his heart with joy. "It's a dangerous game."

He began toward her again – being drawn to her.

"A darker dream, that has no ending…That's so unreal, you believe that it's true."

* * *

"Raoul, please! He is drawing her in!"

Christine shook with fright. She watched her daughter be overcome by the same man that did it to her. Her escape barely happened. It was a kiss of death that freed Raoul and her. She did not want her daughter to suffer the same fate.

"Trust me. She will be fine."

* * *

"Out of a mystery tale…the frightened princess doesn't know what to do! Will the ghosts go away!"

Her answers were not forced but yet not rehearsed. They just came to her.

"No!"

"Will she will them to stay?"

"No!"

"Either way, there's no way to win!"

His breath was hot on her neck. The closeness was killing her. _Touch me!_

"All I know is I'm lost and I'm counting the cost! My emotions are in a spin! I don't know who's to blame…"

"It's a crime and a shame."

"But it's true all the same."

Their voices joined once again. "It's a dangerous game…"

She felt his chest against her back. His hands stuck by his sides but Angelina had a feeling they would not stay there long.

"No one speaks…not one word. But what words are in our eyes?"

"Silence speaks!" His one arm grasped her waist. Her eyes slowly closed as she heard Erik's voice in her head. _Silence speaks!_

"Loud and clear!" _Loud and clear!_

Their voices joined once more – bringing the passion to a higher level.

* * *

Erik made sure his fingertips slowly brushed her sides as he slowly brought his other arm around her. He drew her back to him. Angelina's breath caught as her body pressed against his.

"At the touch of your hand! At the sound of your voice! At the moment your eyes meet mine!"

Angelina slid her hands over his. The sensation heightened and instead of Angelina closing her eyes, he closed his instead.

"I am losing my mind…I am losing control! Fighting feelings I can't define!"

Without warning, Angelina took his hands and began to run them up her body. He watched her eyes close from his touch.

_I cannot do this. I cannot!_ But he was and his heart wanted nothing more.

"It's a sin with no name!" Her voice pierced his soul. What they were was not a sin. As much as people thought it was, it was not.

"No remorse and no shame…fire fury and flame!" The emotions were building. There was no stopping anything now. His nerves were on fire but his heart would not relent.

"Cos the devil's to blame!" He spun her and used his hands to embrace her shoulders. Their eyes blazed with passion and sexuality. Both knew what they wanted and could really never have.

Joined once again, their voiced echoed throughout the opera house. Neither of them knew anyone else was around them. It was them and only them.

"And the angels proclaim!" The silence in between the verse was deafening. "It's a dangerous…game…"

His hands slid back down her sides and he drew her close as the orchestra finished the piece.

* * *

Angelina looked at him and could not believe he stood before her – naked. His face was revealed for the entire world to see. It was as if he did not care.

"Erik?" Her voice was barely auditable but Angelina knew he heard her. The smile on his face lit up her heart. _It is Erik!_ His hand gently moved to her cheek and she closed her eyes from his light touch.

"Did you think I would miss the opportunity to sing with you?" His voice was just as gentle as his hand. No one in the opera house heard him but she had. "You are magnificent."

* * *

Christine watched Angelina and the Phantom. _God, he has taken my child! He has taken my daughter!_

"Raoul, please!" Her voice was now begging him but it was as if did not hear her pleas.

"Patience."

* * *

Erik slowly began away from Angelina. She understood he must leave for the opera to continue and gently nodded her head. The darkness consumed him once again. But it was voice that made him see red. It was _his_ voice that allowed anger to build within him.

"Tell me his name…I want to know. The way he looks…and where you go…"

Across from the darkness he hid in and behind a curtain, Erik saw Rene being held by several men. Rene was struggling in their grasp but could not get free. Erik now knew who was seated in Box Five. His eyes slowly glanced up and he saw the smirk on Raoul de Chagny's face. The man who had stolen away Christine now tried to do the same with Angelina. Raoul had the upper hand but Erik knew it would not be for long.

* * *

Rene struggled against the arms that held him back. What had just occurred had never even crossed his mind. Vicomte de Chagny had guards posted at every exit. Whatever plan he had conjured up was set into motion. There was no way for Rene to warn Erik or Angelina for that matter.

The Phantom was alone. Did he meet his match? Had he lost Angelina forever?

* * *

Angelina's eyes went wide at the sound of the voice. _It cannot be! It cannot!_

"I need to see his face. I need to understand…why you and I came to an end."

She slowly turned and saw Jonathan standing there. Her breathing was even worse then when Erik was standing on the stage with her.

"Tell me again, I want to hear….who broke my faith in all these years?"

His voice was quite good. She could not think he could sing, much less the song that was supposed to be Rene's. Why was he on the stage? Where was Rene?

"Who lays with you at night while I'm here all alone…remembering when I was your own?"

There was anger behind the words. Jonathan felt as if she had betrayed him. Angelina never promised him anything. She knew she loved Erik more then words could express. There was no betrayal. There was nothing.

"I let you go! I let you fly! Why do I keep on asking why? I let you go, now that I found a way to keep somehow…More than a broken vow."

Jonathan was standing in front of her now. There were tears in his eyes and anger behind them. _He knows.

* * *

_

The trembling had not gone unnoticed by Erik. Angelina was frightened. Jonathan was not a part of anything she had seen coming. Her skin had gone pale as she shook with fear.

He wanted to reach out to her. He wanted to assure her everything would be alright.

His mind continued to think of ways to escape – to leave the stage before anything could happen. He needed to find a way to bring Angelina with him. It did not seem to be an option. His eyes widened with realization. A small smirk came to his lips.

_That is it! That is what I will do.

* * *

_

"Tell me the words I never said. Show me the tears you never shed…"

A tear rolled down Angelina's cheek. He loved her and she could not reciprocate. Jonathan's fingers lightly touched her cheek and wiped the tears that escaped from her eyes.

"Give me the touch…the one that you promised to be mine! Or has it vanished for all time?"

Jonathan slowly began to back away from her, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I let you go! I let you fly! Why do I keep on asking why? I let you go, now that I found a way to keep somehow…More than a broken vow."

His outstretched arms seemed to show that he was pleading with her. _I have nothing left to give!_

"I close my eyes and dream of you and I! And then I realize…there's more to love then only bitterness and lies!"

Jonathan's long strides brought him back to her in seconds.

"I close my eyes!" She watched him close his eyes as he stood in front of her. Sadness filled her heart and mind. "I'd give away my soul to hold you once again…and never let this promise end!"

The ring she had given back to him was placed on her finger.

* * *

Erik knew he should have thrown out the ring. He regretted it now. Angelina's heart was faltering. The boy was getting to her. He needed to stop it now.

* * *

Raoul kept his gaze on the stage but knew Christine was feeling more relaxed.

"How did you get Jonathan to come?"

"The love of a woman would bring any man to Paris."

* * *

"I let you go! I let you fly! Now that I know, I'm asking why!"

What Angelina feared most was now reality. Jonathan knew about Erik. It sent shivers down her spine. What would he do to Erik once he saw him on the stage?

"I let you go, now that I found…a way to keep somehow…"

Jonathan was on his knees in front of her. His arms went about her waist and drew her close. The solemn face rested upon her stomach – pleading.

"More than a broken vow…"

His eyes slowly looked up into hers. Angelina's heart broke and in that moment wondered if she had done the right thing.

"You come into the house of God to plead your case?"

Angelina's blood froze. Jonathan slowly stood and looked over her shoulder at the figure moving from the darkness. If fear filled her before, it consumed her now.

"Do you wish to love someone you cannot?"

Angelina's head slowly turned and watched Erik move from the darkness and into the light. His face showed fury but there was pain behind his eyes.

"You will speak to him in vein then, Monsieur. He will not hear your prayers."

"Enough of the charade! I am tired of playing these games. Her heart knows she belongs to me."

Erik's laugh filled the opera house. Angelina's heart stopped by the sound in his voice. The one thing Angelina feared more then anything was Erik returning to his past. His voice showed that he was beginning to go back.

"Her heart belongs to me!" Erik held his hand out. "Come to me."

Before Angelina could reach out for his hand, Jonathan pulled her behind him. His body protected her. But Jonathan did not know that she did not want to be protected. She longed to be in Erik's arms, safe from everything that was going on.

"Please…" She begged but her pleas would fall on deaf ears. Neither of them heard her, engaged in their own battle.

"You protect her from something you do not need to."

"She is not a possession you own. She is flesh and blood."

"Of this I know!"

_God, please stop this insanity!_ This was no longer the opera. Whatever words were being said was what was being felt. The audience had no idea. But someone else did. Angelina slowly looked up and saw her mother and father sitting in Box Five. Fury was in her father's eyes. Her heart began to race even faster. This was not what was supposed to happen.

"She is coming home with me. She will not be damned to hell because of you."

"Jonathan, please I am begging you. Just let this go!"

"Will you ignore her pleas, Monsieur? Will you break her heart to satisfy your own?"

"She does not love you. You have clouded her mind with your own thoughts and wants. She no longer wants to be with you."

"Enough!" She was through being spoken of as if she was not even there. "I am here, standing in front of both of you. I can choose myself."

Before Angelina could move to Erik's side, Jonathan pulled his sword and pointed it at his chest. She stopped in her tracks and watched fury glaze over Erik's eyes.

"She is going nowhere."

There was just one second where she thought Erik would not act on his fury and rage. For one brief second, Angelina saw the love that Erik possessed. One second was all it took for everything to turn into a nightmare.

Like lightning, Erik had shoved Jonathan's sword aside and grasped him by the throat. The entire audience was in an uproar. Angelina watched her father get up from his seat and rush out of Box Five.

"You have crossed me for the last time, boy!"

Without thought or question, flames surrounded Erik and Jonathan. Angelina's eyes went wide as they disappeared from sight. The entire audience was on their feet as Angelina stood there in complete shock.

The floor panel that was below Jonathan and Erik was gone. It opened into a large hole that seemed to go on for eternity. She stood over it, looking down and seeing no sign of either Jonathan or Erik. It was not until her father's voice filled her ears that she sensed she had no choice but to tame the man she loved herself. She would not allow him to become a monster.


	55. Falling into the Abyss

**A/N:** _Thank you all for your kind words and praises. Phoenix's eyes lit up when she saw her mailbox. It was a thrill to see so many reviews and from new readers as well. Please, continue to read. I am still sad that it is ending but I know my dear Phoenix has done far more than we could have ever imagined._

_I hope you enjoy the last few chapters. This will be the last chapter for the night. Phoenix thinks that this will come to its conclusion tomorrow. On Thursday or Friday, she will be posting her new story **'Into the Mind's Eye'**. I have met the new Erik and I must tell you, if I did not succumb to my Erik already, I would be with this one._

_Once again, the stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

**Chapter 51 – Falling into the Abyss**

"Angelina!"

Angelina did not turn around. She would ignore her father's voice. Not only was Jonathan in danger, Erik was as well. How would she save the man she had come to know and love?

"Angelina!" Raoul grabbed her arm and turned Angelina to him. "Where is Jonathan?"

She pulled away from him. "What have you done!"

"What have I done! I saved you from the Phantom."

"I did not need saving! Erik has been nothing but kind to me."

"Is that his name! He has bewitched you just as he did with your mother."

She shook her head. Erik had been nothing but sincere to her since she had met him. Her father had it all wrong. "No, Erik…Erik loves me!"

"Has he told you this?"

"Not in so many words. But I know he would not hurt me."

"He will take you away from your family – your friends. He took you away from Jonathan."

"What will it take for you to understand that I do not love Jonathan!" Tears began to form in her eyes. "I love Erik!" Angelina nearly gasped as she watched her father's eyes grew wide.

"You stay here. I will find Jonathan."

Angelina watched as her father began to talk to several of the stage hands and guards. Rene was nowhere to be seen. It was up to her.

_Please, God…forgive me for what I am about to do…_

Looking around her, Angelina saw no one watching. Sneaking into the darkness, she knew what she had to do.

_I must find Erik. I need to save him from himself.

* * *

_

Jonathan struggled against the binds that held him against the steel grate. Blood ran into his eyes. His head had been cut open as the monster tied him.

"She does not love you."

He watched as the monster kept his back to him. Stripped out of his priest costume, the Phantom stood with his back rigid and his movements full of anger. His wig was missing, giving Jonathan the full view of the hideous creature before him.

"How could she ever love someone like you?"

"Love runs deeper than just mere appearances." Erik looked upon the boy that he had bound against the barrier. "She loves me."

"You have her under your spell. Raoul wrote to me…" Jonathan stopped as he listened to the laughter.

"Raoul? The only reason he is alive is because I allowed it."

"You will kill me then?"

"It is quite possible."

"Angelina will hate you."

"So be it."

He turned and watched a flicker of fear passed over Jonathan's eyes. _The boy is not as brave as he appears to be._ The water rippled as he began his journey toward the coward. Erik held the lasso tight in his hand. It felt like a dead weight. He knew Angelina would never speak to him again but this is what he had to do.

Jonathan struggled as the noose was fit around his neck. "She will hate you."

"She hates you already. I do not fear what she will think of me. Do you? Are you so obsessed with her that you could not let her go?"

"She loves me."

Erik laughed. "She broke off the engagement."

"Because you willed her to."

"I never told her to break off the engagement. I told her nothing of what I feel for her. Understand me now, boy…everything Angelina has ever done has been of her own accord. She is not a puppet. She is a beautiful young woman with her own choices. I have only been there, by her side, as she wanted."

Erik wrapped the rope around his hand as he walked away from Jonathan. "I promise you, it will be over in a few minutes."

Tiny footsteps were heard echoing through the lair. Erik watched out of the corner of his eye Angelina burst in.

"Erik, no!"

Angelina stopped short at the edge of the water. She watched Erik's hand tremble – the rope pulled taut in his hand.

"Leave, Angelina."

"The mob is coming. My father is on his way."

"Then it will end my suffering."

"Please, Erik…let him go."

"Tell me you love him."

Angelina looked at Erik quizzically. "What!"

"That is why you are here. You are here to save him."

"No, Erik, that is not why…"

"Angelina, go! Your father will protect you." Jonathan's eyes rolled back in his head as Erik pulled on the rope.

Erik watched as Angelina grimaced. "He is what you want, is he not?"

"I broke off the engagement."

"That does not mean anything."

"I do not love him!"

Tears spilled down her cheeks. There was no love for Jonathan. She could bear it no longer. She loved Erik. There was nothing she could do to hide it.

"Spare me your pleas and outcries. I know what you feel."

"No, Erik…" Her hands reached out as he pulled the rope again. "Erik, please, you do this it will be just as the others."

"It will not matter."

"But it does matter."

"Why?"

"Because you have something to live for."

"I have nothing to live for! You will be with the boy just as Christine is with the fop she married!"

The rope rung tighter around Jonathan's neck. Angelina could hear him gasp for air. She wished to see Jonathan safe but wished to remain with Erik.

_How will I prove it to him?_

"I will not marry, Jonathan. Please, Erik, I am begging you to let him go. We can go where you wish. All I ask is that you let him go."

"You will go with me as a prisoner."

"No, I will go with you as…" Her mind was reeling, not letting anything sink in. All she saw was Jonathan hanging.

"No more time, Angelina. I am done!" He pulled again and listened as Jonathan gasped for his last breaths.

"Erik!"

"The boy dies!"

"I love you!"

The words echoed off of the rock walls and in Erik's heart. Tears streamed down her face. Was it a moment of weakness or did she truly love him? He remembered the letter that Angelina had written to her brother. But things had changed since then. She knew of what he really was.

_She does not love me…_

His eyes glared at her. "You are saying this to save the boy. Do not mock me, Angelina."

"No! Erik, please…how can I…how can I show you?"

"You cannot. Leave me in…"

"There will be no peace for you if you do this act. You murder him, you will be just like Monsieur Vasilev. You will hurt me more than I can bear."

Erik stilled at the thought of Vasilev. The man's life had been taken to save her. Why was he taking the boy's?

_To save yourself…_

"Leave, Angelina…"

"I will say it again. I love you."

"You cannot love a monster."

He watched as she began toward him. Angelina walked with style and grace even through the icy water. Her black gown did not seem to deter her. His breath caught as she stepped in front of him. Erik was naked to the world. His deformity was not the only thing shed before her – it was his soul as well.

"Angelina…"

"I love you, Erik. I have been wanting to scream it from the rooftops for weeks. I have not had the courage. But I thought the kiss I gave you days ago would prove to you that I loved you. So I will send the message again…"

"Do not do this."

"Erik, I love you." Her lips were hot against his. The water had chilled his entire body but was quickly warmed by her touch. Her finger tips slowly danced over his marred skin causing him to moan.

Suddenly, he remembered the kiss that Christine had given him. It was a way to set her free. It would damn him for all eternity.

He pushed Angelina away, nearly causing her to fall into the dark depths. "Damn you!"

"Erik…"

"You knew…I told you what your mother did to set her free. You used it!"

"No, Erik…that is not why…"

"Take him! Take him and leave. Leave me to my solitude as I should have been left."

He shoved passed her, making his way to his private sanctuary behind the velvet red curtain. Angelina stood in the murky waters as tears ran down her cheeks.

"Angelina…" Jonathan's voice was hoarse.

Looking up, she saw Jonathan still bound by ropes. Rushing over to him, she quickly freed him. Angelina watched as Jonathan rubbed the raw spots on his wrists.

"We must leave quickly before the monster changes his mind." Jonathan began to trudge through the water but turned to see Angelina had not moved. "Angelina?"

"I am not going with you."

"You did not mean what you said. You cannot possibly love that vile creature."

"He is a man."

"He is a monster."

She shook her head. "You have changed. You are not the man I married when I was ten."

"We were children, Angelina."

"Yes, we were. And I am no longer a child." Beginning toward the velvet curtain, a single tear ran down her cheek. "Good-bye, Jonathan."

"You stay with him, you will be hunted."

"So be it. At least I will be loved by a man and not a boy."

She ran toward the private room. Jonathan knew that there was only one man that could take her from the monster.

_I must find Raoul…

* * *

_

Angelina stood with the velvet curtain pulled back behind her. She watched as Erik sat in front of dozens of sketches of her. They were different features – eyes, lips, hair…then there were ones of her dancing, sleeping, weeping…

"Erik…"

"I told you to leave with the boy."

"I do not love him. I love you."

"I wish you would stop saying that. My heart cannot bear any more."

"Why do you deny yourself love?"

"I deny it because it never existed. You do not love me, Angelina. You pity me."

"Do not put words in my mouth." She knelt beside him. "We must leave. My father is bringing as many men as possible to find you."

"I do not care any longer."

"Please, Erik…"

"I love you, Angelina." He looked at her – his cheeks stained with tears. "That is why I must let you go."

Her heart broke. _He loves me…_ Angelina could not believe that he had muttered the three words she had been longing to hear.

"You love me?"

"Please, go…"

"Do you love me?" She demanded to know.

"Yes. You claimed my heart a long time ago."

"And my mother…?"

"…Was an obsession. You are real." He put a hand to her face. "To save you, I will hurt you."

"I am not leaving this lair without you." She could hear the mob coming down the stairs. "Please, Erik, if you love me you will leave with me. They will kill you."

She stood, holding out her hand. His eyes lingered on the hand. All he could see was Christine placing the ring in his hand and closing his fingers around it. Erik could not let it happen again.

"Go."

Angelina knew his mind would not change. She nodded. "Then I will. But know this…I love you, Erik. No other man will fill my heart as much as you have. You have set my soul free. You made me feel for the first time. Thank you."

After she took her first step, Erik felt his heart open into an abyss of darkness. He would not be able to survive without her. Her presence had filled him and he did not even know it. The loss would kill him.

"Angelina…" She stopped and waited. He stood and moved behind her. "…do not leave me…my angel."

Her heart broke and the tears that were held at bay trickled down her cheeks. Sobs racked her body.

"Say it again, Angelina."

"I love you."

She turned to him and threw her arms around his neck. Erik's arms wrapped around her – not wanting to let go.

"They are coming, Erik."

"Do not fear, Angelina. I assure you that you are safe with me."

"Kill the Phantom!"

"Destroy the monster!"

Angelina shivered in his arms as she heard the screams from the mob. Erik kissed her forehead and gently pulled away.

"We must go."

She nodded her head and took his hand. Beginning out, Erik stopped short near the edge of the water. Peering around him, she gasped in horror at the sight before her.

At least twenty men stood before them with Jonathan and her father in front. Torches, knives, pitch forks, and many more instruments were held by the men who longed to see Erik's blood spilled.

"Let her go!" Raoul screamed. He would not lose Angelina.

"I am afraid, Vicomte, that you have lost."

"Angelina, come to me."

Erik watched as Angelina shook her head. He smiled at her and entwined their fingers together. It was the cocking of a gun that had Erik's eyes widen in fear.

Angelina watched as her father pointed a pistol at Erik's heart. "No!" She stood in front of Erik.

"Angelina, move."

"I love him, father."

"He has bewitched you!"

Erik tried to move Angelina but there was no stopping her. Remembering the trap door within his sanctuary, he began to devise a way of escape.

"I love him. You cannot change my heart!"

"Come home with me."

"No."

"There is no more discussion." Erik's voice echoed throughout the lair. "Say good-bye, Vicomte."

Angelina had no time for a reaction as fire surrounded her. Erik grabbed a hold of her waist and within moments they had disappeared from the lair.

Raoul raced toward the flame. As it died, so did he. Angelina and Erik had disappeared.

"No!" He fell to his knees and cried. His scream echoed off of the walls and the opera house itself.

He had lost his daughter – his last tie to the mortal world besides his beautiful and loving wife. Alexander had died and Angelina had traveled to the depths of Hell with a monster. He cursed himself – damned himself.

_My Angel is lost…_


	56. A Ring and a Rose

**A/N:** _Seeing this is my last note to you wonderful patrons, I would like to thank you all for reading. It was quite an unbelievable journey – one that my dear friend Phoenix was never expecting. This was her first attempt at something in novel form. She has been a screenplay writer since I can remember. So, she is very proud of this piece of work and her other work that is posted on FictionPress._

_Tonight the last chapter will be posted and the curtain will be drawn. But it will open on another work from my friend. Please look for **'Into the Mind's Eye'** posted some time on Thursday. It is an exciting journey and one that I am sure you will enjoy._

_Once again, thank you all for reading and enjoying this tale. I was happy to relive it with you. As always, may the Angel of Music watch over you. I bid you all ado. The stage is yours._

_With much love,_

_Erik_

**Chapter 52 – A Ring and a Rose**

Raoul watched as the grave came into view. Years it had taken for the heartbreak to end – years of frustration and anger. His beloved was gone. Christine de Chagny had battled with illness and heartache. It had destroyed her in the end. The loss of a son and a daughter had killed her.

He was barely standing now. The accident had left him in a worsened state. Christine had put up with his shouting and anger. But it was the letters that continued to come that kept him alive. Angelina continued to write from various ports. It was hard to keep track of her.

But he was lost in the world now. There was no one left. The Phantom had taken away everything: his beloved and his angel. How was he to survive with everything gone?

_Christine 1854-1917 Countess de Chagny Beloved Wife and Mother_

His hands wanted to betray him. Putting down the box that long ago haunted her, Raoul watched the monkey seem to laugh at him.

Its music was haunting and made his blood run cold. But Raoul knew that it would help Christine's soul be at peace.

Red was seen out of the corner of his eye. Slowly looking over, he gasped as he saw the last thing he needed to see.

_A red rose with a black ribbon…_

Creeping closer, his heart stopped. Something he thought he'd never see again was glimmering from the sun.

_The ring…

* * *

_

Angelina stood and watched her father. Her heart continued to break as she watched him rise from the wheelchair he was confined to. But it was the loss of her mother that was heavy on her heart.

"Angelina…"

His voice still made her heart quicken. Turning, she smiled at the man standing behind her. His features had changed so much in the years after they had fled the mob. Erik finally admitted to her of his age and his looks. He could never hide the deformity as he wanted but his age…stage make-up hid his looks as he needed. Erik wanted to be the presence everyone had remembered from the Opera Populaire. If he had shown his age, the managers would have never cowered in fear. He wanted to be a ghost. And that is what he was.

He feared her rejection after the revelation. Angelina did not care about his age. It was his heart and soul that she loved. There was no need to hide from her any longer. As they fled, they learned about each other through ways no one had thought imaginable. Through song and dance, Erik and Angelina had reached new plateaus. Their relationship had finally become what they both had wanted.

It was one night in Venice that they had sealed their fate – bonding themselves together. In a moonlit ceremony, they promised themselves to each other. Their love for one another transcended everything Angelina had ever thought possible. She was his and he was hers.

"…come to me."

As always when he beckoned, she obeyed. She nearly cried at the sight of him.

"You should not be out of bed."

"I had to…I had to see her…"

Angelina knew why he had to – the death of her mother and of his first love. Her heart broke at the thought of him still loving her. Could she possibly be jealous of her mother?

"Erik, do you still love her?"

His lips on her forehead held the answer. He would always love her mother but the love he held for her was greater.

"I love you, Angelina."

Angelina turned and watched her father's shocked expression as his eyes fell on the rose. Erik's grasp tightened as Raoul touched the ring.

"He will not take it." Angelina assured him.

"The boy has taken everything else from me."

"He will not take it, Erik." Angelina watched as her father began to walk back to his chair. "See?"

Erik's free hand grasped Angelina's shoulder to steady himself. Dizziness overtook him as Angelina turned.

"Erik?"

"I am not feeling well."

"Come…let me take you home."

Taking one last look, Angelina knew that this would be the last time either men saw Christine Daae. She was now an Angel of Music. Her spirit would linger in both men until they joined her in the heavens above.

Erik's hand at the small of her back brought her back to reality. She smiled at him and they continued out of the cemetery. Love had brought him and Christine together. Love drove them apart. It was love that brought Erik to her. It was love…


	57. The Story Retold

**A/N:** _My dear readers…this is my farewell. I am riding off with my Erik. He loves me, I love him…my days could not be any brighter. I thank you all for your kind words. It has filled my heart with joy and love._

_Enjoy the last chapter. I hope that you will enjoy **'Into the Mind's Eye'** which will take you on a whole new journey. It will be posted some time tomorrow. Keep reading, smiling, and above all else…remember your future is what you make of it. There is a little bit of Erik with all of us._

_The stage is yours as the curtain falls._

_With much love,_

_Angelina_

_PS…Erik wished for me to leave you with a song. It is not his but Monsieur Josh Groban's. He has been an inspiration to Phoenix throughout this story. Erik feels that the song at the end captures the essence of 'From the Light…Into Darkness'. Enjoy…_

**Chapter 53 – The Story Retold**

The house had grown empty and cold. All Raoul could do was stare out the window and watch the rain fall. It had fallen ever since he had visited Christine's grave. The sight of the rose still haunted him as did the letter from his daughter.

_Dearest Father,_

_I have heard of Mother's death. I am saddened by her passing. Know that my thoughts and prayers are with you wherever I am. I am always with you in both spirit and heart. I love you, Father. I always will._

_Angelina_

He had not seen her since the night of her disappearance. It troubled him to know that she could be anywhere in the world. And what was worse was that she was with _him_. The man had not only claimed a piece of Christine's heart but all of Angelina's.

"Sir?"

Raoul turned in his chair and looked at his assistant standing in the doorway.

"What is it?"

"A young woman is here to see you. She said to give you the name of Angelina de Chagny."

Raoul's eyes widened at the name spoken. "Show her in!"

His assistant quickly moved away as a beautiful woman stood in the doorway.

"Hello, father."

The same graceful features were present, but Raoul noticed how much she had grown. She no longer had the baby face he loved but the face of a beautiful woman. Her hair had begun to show gray around the edges but the red was still bright as ever. Her frame was still petite and her walk was still that of a ballerina.

"Angelina…"

He tried to stand but the weakness in his legs would not allow him.

"I will come to you."

Raoul watched her graceful walk over and felt the light touch of her lips on his cheek. A tear rolled down his cheek as she sat down next to him.

"You have come." He thought of why. "He let you come see me about your mother?"

"He is dead."

Raoul looked at the sadness in her face. She was not lying to him. The man he despised had left the world in peace.

"Erik died only several days after mother did." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I thought you would want to know that the Phantom is dead."

Raoul did not know if he was relieved at the fact that his nemesis was gone. "I am sorry, Angelina."

"Do not mock me, father. I know the hatred you possess in your heart for him."

"You do not know what he put your mother and me through."

"What I do know is that he loved me with every fiber of his being. Both you and mother did everything you could to stop it. But it was there whether you wanted to believe it or not."

"Angelina…"

"I am a widower, just like you. I wish to mourn for my husband in peace, father. I did not come here to argue about what happened."

Solemnly nodding his head, his eyes looked at his little girl. "You have grown into a beautiful woman."

"Thank you." She looked at her father restricted to a wheelchair. "I heard about your accident. I wish I could have been here sooner."

"I was glad you did not see me in the state I was in. I did not want your mother to see me but she endured my tirades."

Silence hung between them. There were so many things to say but neither knew how to say them.

"I want to know the tale."

Raoul looked at Angelina. Her eyes met his. Kneeling before him, Angelina looked at her father with a longing that he had never seen before.

"I want you to tell me the tale of the Phantom of the Opera." All she wanted to know was what everyone hated about Erik. He was so loving and kind toward her. She did not understand. "Tell me everything. He has told me his side and I wish to know yours."

"There is nothing to tell, Angelina."

"There is plenty to tell. I wish to know it. I want his memory kept intact."

"Where have you been?" He quickly changed the subject. Memories were not something he wanted to delve into. Christine's death was still fresh in his heart. They would reopen wounds he had closed long ago.

"Where have I been?"

"I have not seen you in years and here you are. I ask again: where have you been?"

"I have been all over the world: London, Rome, Madrid, and the Americas." She smiled as she began to remember the adventures they had gone on. "Erik was a great composer. His music became famous. I was his outlet – the only way the world would hear it." There was a long pause before she continued. "And the world trembled at his feet."

Silence seemed to want to suffocate them as if they were in a tomb. Raoul did not question Erik's talent. It was his methods that he questioned. Wanting to tell Angelina everything, he withheld, not wanting to destroy the memory of the man she loved. Their gazes met once again.

"You are avoiding my question."

"I do not wish to rehash a moment in my life that was not memorable."

"Tell me the tale of my husband!"

Raoul had never known his daughter to raise her voice. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. Whatever haunted her troubled him. Maybe Erik had told her to ask as his dying wish. She would certainly not reveal that to her father. They had shared a bond once. Maybe it was time…

"Fine, you wish to know the tale of the Phantom of the Opera, I will tell you. It is not the story he has told you."

"My opinion will not be swayed. I loved, and still love, my husband. Nothing will change that."

"Then I shall tell you the tale and let your opinion form in time." He took long deep breaths, preparing himself for the long tale of so long ago. He took Angelina's hand as she sat beside him once again. "It was Paris, 1870. The Opera Populaire was just bought by two new owners. It was to perform a production of Hannibal starring Carlotta Giudicelli. But it would not be performed by her; it would be performed by Paris's newest star: Christine Daae."

**The End**

**You Raise Me Up**

Lyrics by Brendan Graham  
Music by Rolf Lovland  
sung by Josh Groban

When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary  
When troubles come and my heart burdened be  
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,  
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains  
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas  
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders  
You raise me up... to more than I can be.  
You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains  
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas  
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders  
You raise me up... to more than I can be.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains  
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas  
And I am strong, when I am on your shoulders  
You raise me up... to more than I can be.  
You raise me up... to more than I can be.


	58. An Update & a Question

_To My Dearest Readers,_

_I am here to tell you of a new adventure. I wish to hear from all of you if you wish for this to continue. Phoenix, my dearest friend, has thought of a way to write a sequel to 'From the Light'…_

_Her endeavor with 'Into the Mind' has not been going as well as she had hoped. With much patience and effort, we have collaborated and have come up with a possible sequel to our favored story._

_We need to hear from you, the readers, if you wish to read one. It will be a new adventure. There were many years that you do not know about from which we parted in my lair and to my untimely death._

_If you wish for a sequel, please leave a review. We hope to hear from all of you. If you do, we hope to post a prologue by the end of the week._

_As always, we would love to hear your comments. I am looking forward to the adventure as is Angelina and my friend Phoenix. There will be new characters introduced and we hope that you would welcome them with open arms as you have us._

_Once again, 'From the Light' would have never been possible without you, the readers. We hope that you will allow us to share our adventures with you._

_With much hope and love,_

_Erik_


	59. Latest Update

_Dearest Readers,_

_I have been asked to provide you with an update to a sequel. It is in the works! Please look for **'To Shun the Light & Embrace the Darkness'** sometime toward the end of the week._

_Please tell everyone! We are looking forward to providing a new adventure. The updates to this story will not be as often as Light but look for them at least once a week._

_As always, Erik and I are happy to give you readers what you want. We would love to hear any and all suggestions. Although some might not be used, we will highly consider them. There are a number of new characters that will be introduced which will provide a better storyline for you._

_Read, review, suggest, and as always – enjoy!_

_With much love,_

_Angelina_


	60. New Story Posted

**Update!**

_To My Dearest Readers…_

'_**To Shun the Light and Embrace the Darkness'** has been posted. Please read at your leisure. We hope that you will join us on our new adventure. We await your reviews as always._

_With Much Love,_

_Erik & Angelina_


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